Solitary
by PhoenixDfire
Summary: kotor : This is an epilogue for the Knights of the Old Republic Computer Game. It's a few years after the fall of the Star Forge and Revan wonders about his place in the Galaxy.
1. Chapter One

"No. No. No. Your stance is all wrong. "

Sarathane blew out a breath of frustration.

"Again!" he said.

They were standing in the sand filled courtyard. Both men were staring at a pile of drones lying on the floor. The younger man altered the way he was standing and lifted his arms. There was the familiar hum of a light sabre. Sarathane watched him with interest. Trake was young, talented but slow at picking things up.

The small remotes activated and started darting through the air, dancing around Sarathane's student. Trake blocked, parried and even attempted to disable a couple of them. Sarathane took a couple of steps back to avoid being hit. Then there was the sound of a blaster rifle being fired.

The bolt came out of nowhere and struck Trake firmly in the back. He collapsed in an undignified heap on the ground without uttering a sound. The remotes returned to their inactive mode.

"Assessment: Targeting good, disappointment is registered at stun discharge Master." HK-47, Sarathane's personal protocol/assassin droid, entered the courtyard.

"I used the force to switch it over to stun before you fired 47." Sarathane replied.

"Appeasement: As you wish Master."

There was a groan and Trake got to his feet. He glared at HK-47, bent down and picked up his light sabre.

"Was there a reason for that?" He asked the droid

"Assessment: If you were truly learning from the master, you would have blocked the shot like he can, Meat-bag."

"I am learning…" Trake started.

"OK, you two settle down." ordered Sarathane, "I didn't knock off 47's aim. You were doing well against the remotes but were focusing far too much on them. A Jedi has to feel the force around him, not just in front of him."

He watched to see if Trake made any reaction to that statement. There did seem to be a look of understanding.

"That's it for today." Sarathane continued. "Go get a bite to eat."

Trake bowed and left the courtyard.

"Query: Shall I send in the Meat-bagette Master?"

"No, Alison has other chores to do. Was there something else?"

"Statement: Yes Master. A ship is approaching the base. It's the Hawk."

Sarathane stared straight at him.

"Who's on board?"

"Apology: I don't know Master."

With tension evident across his shoulders, he left the courtyard. How long had he been here at Duneeden Academy? Four years. Nobody had come to see him in at least two, not since Jolee passed on.

He walked through the compound to the landing area, listening to his footsteps and the clanking metal of 47, as he walked. Everything seemed so quiet. He began to recognise the ominous presence of foreboding. His hand instinctively moved to his belt, where he felt the reassuring cold metal of the sabre hilt. No harm in being prepared, even though he had not used it in action for almost three years.

The pad was still empty when they arrived. Thankfully, HK-47 had not asked to power up weapons or prepare a 'grenade surprise party'. In, fact his silence was more ominous than the constant requests to kill things. He was just about to say something to the droid, when the Ebon Hawk came into view.

She effortlessly flew through the canyon on approach and, with a couple of thruster squirts, put down not far from where they were standing. Sarathane could not decide if he was happy or resentful to see this ship, after all it felt like another lifetime ago.

The landing ramp lowered and a single man walked down it. Tall, muscular, and as Mission often described him 'Mr Moody Looking', Carth Onasi walked away from the ship.

"Not today, thank you.," said Sarathane with a smile, "We don't need any travelling salesmen."

"Oh, pleasure to see you too." replied Carth, who to be honest, never seemed to understand Sarathane's sense of humour.

"Identify: Travelling Salesman. Arming Protocols." 47 Announced.

"Stand Down 47. Good to see you Carth."

At that point another object came rolling down the ramp. T3-M4, the hacking and repair droid, came rolling up beside Carth. It started to fire off bleeps and whirrs in short order.

"Declaration: Of course I'm not going to shoot you, Do you look like a Meat-bag?" replied 47 to the smaller droid.

"Hello T3." Said Sarathane.

Bleeps and whirrs came forthcoming.

"Query: Master, T3 Requests a power socket quite urgently."

"Fine. Show him the way 47."

With that the two droids headed towards the compound.

"Complaint: No, the Master hasn't let me shoot anybody for real since the last time, I'm sure my trigger finger will start suffering from rust soon." HK-47 was heard saying once they turned the corner.

Sarathane turned back to Garth, trying not to smile.

"Your in luck, the evening meal is about to be served. It's got to be better than the usual stores aboard the Hawk."

"Got that right." sighed Carth, "T3 is not the best when it comes to cooking. Mines even worse."

"I once tried to get HK-47 to learn. Half of the Academy was out of action due to food poisoning."

Carth started laughing.

"He said he would have been so proud, if he'd done it on purpose."

They both started to walk back into the compound.

"Look Revan. I've got some news to tell you."

Sarathane stopped.

"Carth, please. Revan is dead. I'm Sarathane. "

Carth looked as if he was about to interrupt.

"There hasn't been a single flicker of memory since our little escapades five years ago." Sarathane continued.

"But he is you." Carth insisted.

"He was Me. " replied Sarathane, "When you look at it from a different point of view, he was just another casualty of the war."

Carth nodded and changed the subject.

"Sorry Sarathane, but what I've got to tell you. Your not supposed to know. I'm breaking a lot of rules just by coming to you."

"Well, I hear better on a full stomach."

"Isn't that one of Zaalbar's lines?"

Duneeden was a remote temporate world, where it seemed to rain every other day. Carth was lucky to have arrived on a dry day. The academy itself was smaller that the one on Dantooine. This was only an introductionary school here. If the students left here, it was to learn at one of the more advanced facilities around the galaxy.

Sarathane felt completely at ease with Carth as they walked through the school's corridors. However, it was obvious to him that his friend was troubled, even without using his abilities. They walked into the canteen.

A number of tables were strewn about the open plan room with the cooking area in the background. There was only person present at the moment, the cook. He was a large set man, whose dirty apron and wild beard was thought to contain new forms of life that even the science droids couldn't catalogue.

"Mr Brook." Called Sarathane, "Two specials please."

"Two stews coming up Chief." The big man replied.

Sarathane gestured Carth to sit.

The conversation was light as they waited for the food. Zaalbar and Mission were both on the wookie homeworld. There had been no sign of Canderous since the end of the sith war. Carth had been following up rumours on the far side of the galaxy. However, if he didn't want to be found, there didn't seem to be much point looking.

Juhani, on the other hand, was always easy to find. She was flying round the Outer Rim Territories, breaking up every slave gang and connecting smuggler outfit she could find. She was going to put an end to the slave trade, even if she had to do it single-handed.

She'd told Carth that a trail was leading up inside the Republic Hierarchy, maybe leading to the senate itself. Carth had promised to help when the time came but he hadn't been in contact with her for the last month. Brook put two bowls full of steaming stew in front of the pair of them.

"Tuck in." said Sarathane, pointing at his bowl.

Carth picked up his spoon and took a huge mouthful from the bowl. Sarathane casually observed, while Carth's expression moved from satisfaction, to shock, then horror, finally ending with disgust.

"What's in this stuff?" He spluttered.

"You don't want to know."

"Your right, I probably don't. How can you eat this?"

"A Jedi does not know pain…."

Carth snorted, "Thought you said that this food was better than the Hawk's?"

" I lied." Sarathane smiled, "Everybody has to experience one of Mr. Brook's specials at least once in their life. Makes you appreciate other food SO much more."

"I can't believe I'm looking forward to the K rations on the ship."

"Anyway, " said Sarathane, "the news you were going to tell me?"

"I'm here about Bastila."

Sarathane's smile disappeared.


	2. Chapter Two

"We are gathered here to pay a respects to a unique individual... "

_At least they got that right!_

"Whose solitary viewpoint can be used in a exemplary manner for the rest of us. "

_A roundabout way of saying we didn't approve of his methods!_

"Are you going to comment on each little thing they say?" muttered Sarathane.

_If you cannot comment on your own eulogy, then what is the point of being a ghost?_

Sarathane looked over his shoulder to the ghostly apparition of Jolee. The old man looked exactly like the corpse on the funeral pyre, apart from the slight blue glow of his aura. He returned the look with smug amusement.

_I've made sure that you are the only one who can see me. It's going to look bad for you if you look as if you are talking to yourself._

"I hate you old man!"

_Considering I am no longer old or a man then I don't know all who you are talking to. Mind you, neither does anybody else round here._

Sarathane glanced round the small room he was in. He did notice a lot of quizzical stares from many of the highly ranking people around. Even though Jolee was dead, he was still finding ways to embarrass him. People had travelled the width of the galaxy to be here and he was being made to look a fool.

The rest of the service passed in the same manner. Sarathane was biting his lip at several of the deceased Jedi's comments. However, it didn't seem to matter until one person noticed his discomfort.

Bastila Shan looked over at him, a quizzical look in her face. He smiled sheepishly, and then tried to look as if he was taking an interest in the proceedings. When she had followed suit, he stole a glance back at her.

She was standing close to the edge of the crowd, dressed in her old jedi robes. Her brown hair tied back, revealing her perfectly chiselled, marble like beauty. Many had commented on her striking features, a cold precise elegance that sometimes gave the impression of aloofness. It was only on closer examination did you see the warmth and compassion within her eyes.

He could still feel the connection that existed between the pair of them since the crisis two years ago. The mutual attraction was still there, but she was attempting to resist it. She wanted to be considered a Jedi again, but the council decreed that if she wished to attain her former rank, these feelings had to be purged.

_She's going. _Sarathane felt the sympathy, as the tone changed to a more serious note.

"I know." He muttered, "I've got to try and change her mind."

_You can't. She's got to learn some things by herself._

"What do you mean?" Sarathane felt desperate.

_Look, She's conflicted. _Jolee continued. _She wants to be a Jedi and we both know she wants to be with you. The problem is, she can't have both._

"I can convince her to stay."

_And she'll always wonder what if. What good could I have done if I was a Jedi again? She might even see it at punishment that she shouldn't be allowed to feel happiness. She might even see it as a way to make amends for what happened._

"You've made your point." Sarathane sighed, "I just wish that it wasn't so difficult. I don't want to let her go."

_I'm the only Jedi round here that understands. You've got to remember, if you try and force Bastila to stay, what's the difference between you and Malak?_

"I know. "Sarathane was whispering though clenched teeth, "I understand! Jolee there's no need to nag."

Loosing someone you love was bad enough, but when a ghost was hanging over your shoulder seemingly 'rubbing it in', it was then it hit him. Sarathane could feel it, a dark, familiar and seductive impression in the back of his mind. He recognised it almost immediately, just a small suggestion. Bastila could be his. After all, the Galaxy did owe him one.

He pushed the thought out of his head. Better for her to go than be the victim to the dark side of his nature and how many other people had suffered because of that in the past?

_I feel it too, son. _Jolee interrupted his though pattern, _but sometimes the hardest lesson a Jedi has to learn, is when to back away and let things run it's course._

The service ended, the small crowd dispersed saying their goodbyes, leaving Sarathane by himself. He glanced up and looked at the people making their way towards the landing pads. Bastila had stopped, letting the crowd pass her by. She turned to look back at Sarathane.

Their eyes met. Sarathane realised, she knew that he was aware she was leaving. She was leaving now, on the transport that was sat on one of the landing pads. She looked at him with an impassive mask, but for a second there was a slip. There was a look in her eyes and there was a fleeting feeling of some emotion.

Sorrow, regret, sadness, Sarathane couldn't pinpoint it. He looked again, but the mask was back in place. Without a word, she turned and followed the crowd.

"Sarathane? Hello? "

Carth waved his hand in front of Sarathane's face.

"Anybody in there?"

"I'm sorry, Carth." grimaced Sarathane, "Reminiscing."

"Anyway, this important news? " Carth looked at him irritably, "I fly half way over the galaxy and violate several direct orders to get here. When I do, you go all 'dreamy' and look as disinterested as is physically possible."

Sarathane at least had the decency, to look apologetic.

"Bastila and her Master have gone missing. " Carth continued, "The Jedi council don't want you involved, because of past emotional connections."

"In other words, they fear the return of Dark Lord Revan, if I find out she's dead." Sarathane's voice took on a sarcastic tone, "Apologies in advance Carth, but I'm going to go all 'dreamy' for a few minutes."

Sarathane closed his eyes and reached out to the force. He searched for the connection he shared with Bastila. This bond had formed during the metamorphic transition from Revan to himself. He found it, but there was something wrong. Not only had it degraded, Bastila's half was severed and flapping about like a flag in strong wind.

He then thought back. A week ago he'd felt a jolt from the force. As these jolts occur on a regular basis, he paid it no mind. He realised, however, it must have been when the bond broke. His eyes snapped open.

"She's gone." He whispered.

"How can you know that?" replied Carth.

"I know!" snapped Sarathane.

Carth looked at his friend, worried that he might have done the wrong thing by coming to him. Sarathane normally kept calm in every situation. A sudden snap of anger, especially from a Jedi so powerful, was unsettling to say the least. The jedi blew out his breath in frustration and seemed to regain some of his composure.

"If she'd died, I would know." Explained Sarathane, "I could pinpoint wherever she was in the galaxy up until now. It's like she's just disappeared. It doesn't seem to make any sense."

"Well, the hawk can be refuelled and we can go looking?"

There was the sound of servos, as both HK-47 and T3-M4 approached the table the two men were sat at.

"Interruption: Master we have an unidentified ship approaching the Academy, at high speed." HK-47 announced, " Query: May I recommend that I go to full combat posture?"

"Do so!" Sarathane was on his feet, saber in hand.

HK-47 transformed himself. Compartments opened in the droid's arms, legs and torso, revealing various blasters, ion cannon and even a flamethrower. This firepower was in addition to the rifle he was already carrying.

"Erm… Isn't that a little overkill?" asked Carth, pointing to the arsenal the droid was carrying.

"Statement: Negative on overkill, this is known as being prepared."

"Great, here I am with the galaxy's first homicidal boy scout." muttered Carth as they all ran to the landing bay.


	3. Chapter Three

"Master Sarathane, the ship is attempting a landing cycle. "Announced Trake though the academy tannoy system.

"Keep the apprentices inside a compound, we will handle this." said Sarathane into his communicator.

"Yes sir."

Carth observed his friend for a second; this is how he remembered Sarathane. He was in control of the situation, calm and levelheaded. It didn't take long to reach the landing pads, where the Ebon Hawk was stationed. There was a roar overhead as a streamlined sith fighter made a quick pass over the buildings.

The ship turned but didn't fire. Instead it dropped its landing gear and started to settle down on the pad next to the Hawk. Sarathane, Carth, HK-47 and T3 all stood in front of the ship, weapons out and ready. The cockpit door started to open.

HK 47 decided not to wait any longer.

"Status; Defending Master." He announced, and opened fire with every weapon at his disposal. The cockpit was turned into a mess of melting metal and sparking wires. A figure rolled out of it. There was a single flash that hit HK 47.

The droid seem to be covered in blue sparks. It dropped the blaster rifle and started walking round in circles.

"Hold you're fire!" Shouted Sarathane.

"Damn right you will! " came a familiar voice.

"Canderous? " asked Carth.

"Who else would have known what 47 would have done? " said the figure as he came into view.

Canderous was a tall, muscular man in his late Fifties. This posture was strictly military, a professional soldier who didn't care for the cause, just for the money and the battle. He had a cracked scarred face, which seemed incapable of any form of compassion. He approached the group, with a huge ion cannon slung over his shoulder.

"Well, most the academy would, the wildlife round here seems to learn to stay out of his way quite quickly and, of course, the King of Augustprime would certainly know." replied Sarathane, "Still, good to see you. "

"Oh, Is that's what happened him? " whispered Carth to Sarathane, "Nobody ever tells me these things!"

"I'm here to talk to you about Bastila" said Canderous.

"Query: Two sacks of Bantha PooDoo to go, my good friend! " HK 47 announced, whilst the blue sparks continued to make him jitter. He walked into a wall.

"Typical, " said Sarathane, "I wait two years for someone to come visit me. Y'know, see how I'm doing and not a word from any of you. Then everyone turns up at once? "

"We could discuss this over one of Mr Brooks specials? " suggested Carth with a wry smile.

"Query: How were many roads must a man walked down? " HK 47 continued to burble, " 42! Oh the horror, the horror, I'm so scared of fluffy bunny rabbits!"

"T3, fix 47 would you? " asked Sarathane.

Several negative bleeps and whirs came from the droid.

"No!" Sarathane frowned, "Why?"

More Bleeps.

"You prefer him like that." Sarathane smiled.

"T3, what do you think 47 would do, if he fixed himself and found out you didn't do anything?" asked Canderous.

The little droid shrieked and grabbed 47 off into the compound. Sarathane turned his attention back to Canderous.

"Yes." He said while winking at Carth, " let's discuss this over some food."

All three of them sat down at the table. The cook brought over a third bowl for Canderous.

"So, what have you been doing for the last few years?" Asked Carth.

"Freelance police officer!" Replied Canderous as he started to eat the stew.

"Eh?"

"Republic sanctioned Bounty Hunter!" clarified Carth, "it takes quite a lot to get one of those licences."

"What can I say, there are ways of getting these things."

"I hate to think of the body count." Said Carth.

"Actually, my body count is very low." Replied Canderous, "I found that it was more of a challenge to take them alive. The fact it pays better is irrelevant."

Sarathane looked over the older man for a second using his ability. He had changed very subtly. There wasn't the bloodlust any more it.

"Which is why," he continued while eating the stew, "I have come to speak to you."

"Bastila?"

"Exactly. As Carth would tell you, I have the L12 licence."

There was low whistle from Carth, obviously impressed.

"That means you get exclusive rights to the highest pickings. Only the best and the least bloodiest Bounty Hunters get that licence." Explained Carth, "I hope that you got that licence legally."

"I did. The licence people even had a jedi follow me to make sure I was valid."

"Anyway, Bastila?" Sarathane queried trying to get the conversation back on track.

"Yes, a warrant has been issued for the live return of Bastila in sound mind and body condition."

"Bloody hell! What has she done?"

"That's not all. This warrant was issued by the Jedi Council on Courscant."

"You hear anything about this Carth?"

"Not a thing!"

"Canderous, where was the last reported sighting?"

"Morris sector. Sector capital. I figured you should know."

"Seeing if we had a lead, or she might even be here. Easy way to pick up a bounty." Carth was staring accusingly at Canderous.

The big man ignored him and carried on eating his stew.

"Were you letting me know?" Asked Sarathane.

"Yes Revan, I was. Nobody has taken up the warrant, including me. I felt you might need help to find her."

Sarathane flinched at the name of Revan. For five years he had been himself, the previous 30 years were blank to him. They weren't blank to the rest of the galaxy. After the incident four years ago, he checked the records. The person he had been had performed the most horrific crimes. But he remembered none of it; either the council had wiped his mind clear or in Revan's final battle, the injury must have horrendous.

"There is a foot note to this warrant," Canderous interrupted his train of thought, "if this person starts making inquiries about this warrant's subject, do not approach and inform your contact."

The older man paused for a second.

"Then it shows a picture of you."

Sarathane and Carth exchanged glances. Carth grimaced.

"Delicious stew, by the way." Said Canderous.


	4. Chapter Four

Sarathane alone sat in the hold in the Ebon Hawk. He's only realised now how much he'd missed this ship. Nostalgia washed over him as he contemplated the situation. He let the smell and the familiar surroundings overwhelm him. He could almost hear Juhani explain about Taris again, almost see Mission cry about her brother and he could still smell Zaaribar. He realised he actually could. He smiled; it was notoriously hard to get rid of the reeking honk that a damp wookie made anyway.

But most of all he could remember the kiss. He only allowed himself to remember it from time to time, but thanks to enhanced abilities, he could remember it exactly. There was the touch and the lingering. He could feel the exhilaration of both him and Bastila as, just for a second, it felt that they began to merge. He could replay that moment over and over forever if he wanted.

Sighing, he pulled away from the memory. He pushed it away into a small corner of his mind. Only for use when he needed it to remember why he kept going. The last couple of years had been difficult, unanswered questions and different theories about what could have been had flying through his mind. Sometimes overwhelming his sense of reality.

If it wasn't for the training he received on Dantooine, then his thoughts and confusion might have beleaguered him. He normally could remember each student that he taught, but lately things were beginning to blur. Maybe it was related to Bastila going missing, but all he had was an overwhelming urge to find her.

"Query: Does master require some meatbag sustenance?" HK-47, who had been return to full functionality by T3, was standing near the hold entrance.

"Statement: Canderous has acquired as much of the Mr Brook's stew as he could make, I'm sure he could spare some! "

Sarathane grimaced "No thank you 47. I'm fine!"

"Declaration: I am concerned Master, you have been sat here for more than two days, with none of the liquids you require. "

"You're actually concerned? "

"Reasoning: If you die Master, my shutdown protocol initialises. I do not desire this. You being alive is of benefit to both of us."

"Why, thank you 47, your bedside manner is most excellent." Sarathane comment dryly.

He climbed out of his medative position and realising how weak he felt, walked through to the cockpit. Both Carth and Canderous were sat at the controls. Looking outside the window, the nauseating swirl of hyperspace passed by the ship.

"I wondered when you were going to surface." Said Carth, "TK 47 was beginning to fret."

"Denial: Meatbag Onasi must be mistaken."

"Anyway, " interrupted Canderous, "We're only a few minutes away from real space reversion. I'd brace if I were you, Carth's piloting isn't as good as it used to be."

"Hey…" Carth was about to protest when a light began to flash on the cockpit flight control panel.

Sarathane sat down and picked up the K ration that HK 47 gave him. The ship shuddered as real space reverted around them. Ahead was a small blue green planet and in the distance a bright red Sun.

"There you go." Said Sarathane, "Picon Major, the most advanced planet in the Morris Sector."

"Which isn't saying much." Commented Canderous.

The approach was very comfortable. Despite the criticism, Carth handled the approach to the main spaceport with ease. Before they knew it they were flying over the Capital that was situated by the sea. It was morning, local time. The red sun was giving the sea a blue/purple hue, which reflected into the city.

Tall buildings and platforms reached up from the ground, as if trying to reach for the stars. While small ships darted between them on errands of their own. It reminded Sarathane very much of Taris, where his present life had really begun. A city, which fooled you into thinking it was beautiful from the air. Once you had landed, however, you found it got real ugly fast. He wondered if Picon Major City was like that.

"Now we have a problem." Mentioned Carth, "If people are looking for Bastila and have got your picture as well, then how do we start investigating?"

"I can get us through customs," Claimed Canderous.

"You going to use the shaky hand trick?" asked Carth.

"Only if I have to." Replied Sarathane, "I've got a different trick up my sleeve, but I will get tired quickly. The Droids?"

"Well, T3 is the repair droid for this ship, but as for HK 47?"

"Statement: I am well versed at concealing my 'embellished' functions Master." HK-47 said, "However, I say if any custom officer questions us, then I remove the liquid from the Meatbag in the most efficient manner. Liquid less Meatbags rarely talk!"

"47, you engage your protocol functions and no engagement of hostile functions unless I deem there is a direct threat to anyone in this group." Ordered Sarathane.

"Disappointment: Yes Master"

"Next" said the board looking custom official at the desk. He looked up and saw Sarathane, Carth and Canderous staring down at him. Sarathane could tell the small man in the grey uniform was starting to feel a little intimidated already.

"Welcome to Picon Major, Documents p-p-please?" he stammered.

All three, handed over travel papers.

"N-n-nature of visit?"

"Business!"

"Pleasure!"

Carth and Canderous had said it together at the same time. For the first time, the custom officer forgot his fear and looked at them strangely.

"Business for him and I'm on shore leave, so pleasure for me." Explained Carth.

The official looked at Canderous, "Your Business?"

"Freelance Police Officer."

"Oh, Another Hunter after the rouge jedi huh?"

"The job I am on is strictly confidential."

"Yeah, right we've must have a hundred or so hunters through here in the last few days saying the same thing."

"Observation:" HK-47 whispered in Sarathane, "This meatbag is going to blow our cover, permission to remove his water Master?"

"No." Sarathane whispered back, "Wait and see how this pans out."

"Well, you'll see the boards posted at the enforcement office." Explained the official. He turned his attention to Carth.

"Shore Leave?"

"Yup."

"The both of you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Droids?"

"2, protocol …"

What sounded like a growl came from HK-47.

" and Expert Repair."

" And you ship is the Ebon Hawk?" asked the custom official. It was then Sarathane recognised the danger. In their rush to leave the Duneeden Academy, they hadn't changed the ship's name. If that name went on the register…

"That ship name is familiar." Said the official.

"No, " said Sarathane whilst waving his hand, "The ship is called the Toboggan Squawk."

The grey man looked dazed for a second and then typed in the new name. Carth shot Sarathane an odd glance.

The man looked back up.

"That seems to be in order. Welcome to Picon Major."

"Grattitude:Thank you, Meatbag" said HK47.

"What?" The man said

"He said 'Thank you, Chinwag.' He likes talkative people." Sarathane waved his hand again.

"Oh right. " He looked down the line, "Next!"

They were outside the port, waiting in the taxi rank when Carth turned to Sarathane.

"Toboggan Squawk?" he asked.

"Best I could manage on the spur of the moment." He replied.

"Chinwag? Talkative people?"

"Well, erm…"

"It's a good job you jedi have that hand wave trick. If you had to rely on improvisation and wit, we'd all be talking Mandalorian."

"I wish!" Said Canderous.

The enforcement office was heaving with people. The beings in uniform trying, in vain, to keep the non-uniformed in some kind of order. It was a large building with a classically styled reception area. Solid marble pillars supporting the roof, a large enquiry desk, which was beset by people and uniformed officers dragged people left and right through the Chaos.

"Interesting how we're going to approach this one." Said Carth.

"Here we see the true evil of the republic, " commented Canderous, "Bureaucracy!"

"Assessment: All that is required is one plasma grenade and we'll be at the front to the queue!"

Sarathane took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He reached out with the force, calming the situation. People stopped shouting and looked around at each other in a daze.

"You will form an orderly queue behind me and give the Officer behind the desk some breathing space."

A space in the crowd parted and he walked up to the front desk and waited. Every being behind him, like reluctant children, slowly assembled into a line. Nodding to himself that this was satisfactory, he turned towards the desk officer who was watching in amazement.

"Erm, thank you sir" She was a short, athletic female officer with short blond hair and brown eyes, "can help you?"

Sarathane placed his light sabre on the desk in front of her.

"Eek!" The Officer and looked at the weapon as if it was going under bite her and took a step back from the desk.

"Is there a problem?" Asked Sarathane.

"No sir, just startled me, that is all." The Officer seemed to regain her composure, "you'll need to talk to Detective Simons."

"And he is?"

"Go to the second floor, third office from the stairwell on the left. He's been waiting for one of you to turn up." The Officer explained.

"Just for curiosity's sake," asked Sarathane, "why did you jump at the light sabre?"

"Erm.. Detective Simons can help you with that." The girl gave him a weak smile.

Sarathane left the queue and motioning for his companions to follow, walked towards the stairwell. Carth and Canderous quickly caught up.

"I've never seen you do that before?" Carth seemed concerned, as they climbed the stairs.

"Any jedi can do that! The fact is most do. However, only when they deem it necessary."

"And was that necessary?"

"Yes, I'll explain why after this meeting."

"That sounds ominous."

"Yeah!"

The small party arrived outside the office. Each office was partitioned as small cubicles made of frosted glass. They could make out the small figure working in the office.

"Is it a good idea to have an enforcement office that is made mostly out of glass?" Commented Canderous, "They mustn't have much in the way of trouble round here."

Sarathane knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Called a voice from within the office.

They entered. The man sat at the desk was in his late Forties. He was overweight, unshaven and had some kind of beverage, probably Kaff, spilt over his shirt. However, as he looked over his visitors, Sarathane could see a trained eye observing them.

"Jedi Huh?" He said.

"Very observant." Replied Sarathane.

"Nah! Nene just called me from the desk." The man admitted, "so, you are after the rogue."

"Something like that."

"Well, a week ago these two jedi turn up in this office asking for assistance. They say they are tracking a spice smuggling ring. I gave them a few pointers about where they might operate and that was the last saw of them."

"Where did you send them?"

"Service sector, near dock 25. Pity really, the woman jedi looked very nice."

"What were their names?"

"Verdon, that was the master, and the babe with him was called Bastila." He said.

Sarathane suppressed a grimace. Just the mere mention of her name made him feel on edge.

"Thank you, you have been very helpful."

"Say, if you don't manage to find her, could you at least deal with the smugglers? They've been running rings round me and I could do with the help."

Sarathane nodded and left the room.

"Service sector then?" Asked Carth.

"Yeah!" Replied Sarathane.


	5. Chapter Five

The 'service' sector was the most run down neighbourhood that the party had seen since Tarris. It wasn't just the fact that the buildings were in a bad state of repair, there seemed to be a dark, oppressive atmosphere that smothered the area.

The service sector was where people went to buy services. You needed somebody to perform the task for you, which is not exactly legal, then this was the place to find them.

Carth and Sarathane were sat in a diner in the seedier part. Canderous had volunteered to scout the area with HK 47 and report back later. The diner was standard layout, with a cooking area and breakfast bar to one side and tables and chairs on the other, next to the windows. The waitress slammed down to plates of something in front of the pair of them and stormed off as another customer yelled for her attention.

"Come back Mr Brook," muttered Sarathane, "all is forgiven."

There was the grunt of agreement from his companion.

"We haven't been doing well with our diet, have we?" Said Carth.

Sarathane gave the food an experimental prod.

"You've been meaning to ask me a question?"

"Yes, the enforcement office, why?"

"We didn't have time to faff about."

"Thought the Jedi liked patience." Said Carth.

"This one hasn't any." Said Sarathane pointing to himself, "but it made me realise something." He paused, "I'm beginning to lose my focus and control over the force."

Carth looked stunned.

"What do you mean? Dark side? "

"Maybe, I don't know. It's just that, since Bastila disappeared it's been difficult to concentrate. It's like there is too much noise in my head and I can't quieten it."

"This bond of yours?"

"I can't say, however, I am feeling more agitated and aggressive and I'm beginning to one wonder if what the council did to me is unravelling. I maybe am reverting to who I was."

"But you haven't had a single flicker of memory from your previous..." Carth looked very uncomfortable because he knew how his friend had avoided this issue as much that he could.

"... Existence?" Sarathane finished for him, "I know. But I can't ignore this feeling. It's like I've been here before, constant Deja-vu!"

"Do you think that's why the council didn't want you involved?"

"I don't know. I've been seconded guessing them ever since myself, Jolee and Bastila were given the task of setting up an additional academy. You know that we always got the students, which were expected to fail. It was up to us to turn them around."

"That's an awful lot of 'I don't know' and 'I can't say' for my liking."

"That's why I want you to have this."

Sarathane reached into his pocket and brought out a small silver case. It was about the size of a cigarette lighter. He put the case on the table and pushed it over to where his friend was sitting issue.

"What is it?" He asked as he picked it up.

"Detonator!"

Carth's face opened with surprise.

"It's similar," continued Sarathane, "to the slave bonds that the Hutts use. If someone holding one of these considers that I have gone too far, then they flip it opened and push the button."

"And then what?"

"Boom!"

There was an awkward silence. Carth kept on looking from the silver case in his hand, to his friend across the table.

"This was the council's failsafe. Master Vandar had one and so did Bastila."

"That means that she could have ..." Realisation dawned on Carth.

"Yep, killed me at any time but she didn't. I only found out after the whole star forge thing was over." Sarathane looked Carth in the eye with deadly seriousness.

"Carth, I don't want to be Revan. I've read up in the archives about some of the things he did. I did! I feel sick just thinking about what happened."

"But you're not Revan."

"I can feel what happened sometimes. It's like you know you've forgotten something and you can't remember, but you know it's important and it's just out of reach. You also know that it's Bad."

"I guess I know what you mean. It's like when I found out about Dunstil, there was this horrible, coiling feeling in my gut. You know, that cold sinking feeling of fear when you know something is very wrong."

Sarathane nodded.

"That's why you've got that. If I go too far then promise me you will press that button."

"I can't..." Carth splattered.

"You must, otherwise something worse than jumping a queue might happen."

"I'll see. I can't promise."

"That will have to do." With that, Sarathane picked up his fork and attempted to put some of this food in his mouth.

A couple of hours later, they found themselves outside a warehouse. A large grey building, which was surrounded by hundreds of other large grey buildings of the same design and scale. Sarathane, Canderous and Carth were watching from a speeder that had been 'borrowed' by the Big Mandalorian. The two soldiers were sat in the driver and passenger seats respectively, with the jedi watching from the back.

The two droids were off exploring the surrounding area. As nobody looks twice at droids, this made them the ideal scouts. Although getting HK-47 to walk around without his custom modified blaster rifle took all of Sarathane's persuasion and patience. He swore he'd never seen such devotion in a droid before, to its weapon anyway.

"You getting anything from in there?" asked Canderous.

"Nothing apart from people at work. Nope." Replied Sarathane.

"Speeder approaching." Said Carth.

Sarathane reached out with the force, blanking their presence from any living being around them.

"Now here's something interesting." Canderous commented, "Isn't that the Fat Enforcement Officer?"

Sarathane looked over, whilst still trying to maintain his focus.

"It certainly looks like him." said Carth.

Sarathane began to realise he was loosing his hold on the force. He turned his mind inward and put more effort into his control.

"Yup, " muttered Carth, "walks straight into the warehouse and doesn't even draw his weapon."

"That looks like an insider to me." Observed Canderous.

Something twigged at Sarathane's perception. He shifted his slightly wobbly focus towards it. He touched a presence, cold, remote and angry. It was familiar but he couldn't place it. Could it be Bastila? There was a feminine feel to it, but he wasn't sure. He snapped out of his trance.

"There's a Dark Jedi in there." He announced.

"You sure?" Canderous turned to look at him, "You didn't pick him up earlier."

"It might be a she."

"Do you think… " Carth Started.

"Dunno. But I'm going in" announced Sarathane. "Drop HK-47's weapon in a bin."

Canderous and Carth exchanged glances. Shrugging, Canderous upholstered his blasters and moved the settings to stun. Upon seeing this, Carth did the same.

"HK-47, We're dropping your gun in a bin next to the speeder. Pick it up and head in the back. Full combat mode enabled. If anything that shoots at you then enjoy yourself."

"Confirmation: Gleefully Master!"

"You'll need you blasters on full power." warned Sarathane, "This is going to be a tough fight"

Carth looked back at him. "That the only reason?"

Sarathane grimaced, "Yes, You'll see when we get in there."

All three of them left the speeder and walked over towards the side door of the grey building.

"Now this calls for Subtly!" Said Carth as they arrived at a side entrance.

Canderous nodded in agreement, turned and kicked the door in.

"That's subtle for a Mandalorian." Said Sarathane, with a smile as he followed him in.

The warehouse was stacked high with shipping crates of varying sizes. This gave the impression that they were entering a maze made of rusting steel walls. Sarathane felt an angry presence from behind one of the corners to his left and pulled out both of his sabres. The presence jumped out from behind its cover and tried to fire at the three men, only to find he was unable to move. Sarathane lowered his hand.

Canderous shot him point blank, with a stun blast, and the man fell to become an indecorous heap on the floor.

"Forgot you could do that, " said Canderous, " That would be handy for live captures, although it might make it too easy for it to be a challenge."

Sarathane motioned for silence and walked round the corner from where the man had jumped. He walked into a whole load of trouble. Twenty or thirty men stood, or hid in the cover behind crates, in front of him. Their blasters levelled at him like a firing squad. He reached out with the force, scanning for the person who was going to fire first.

He waited, not one of them moved. Were they waiting for an order? They did seem highly disciplined. He considered if they were Sith forces, when a man stepped out from behind a crate.

"You had better have a good reason for being here." He said.

The voice was arrogant and condescending, typical behaviour for a Sith Officer. They were definitely sith.

"I am Jedi Revan." Sarathane shouted so they could all hear him, "I'm arresting you all on suspicion of smuggling. Throw down you weapons or suffer the consequences"

"Ha! Revan's Dead. " Replied the officer, "and if you think that we're going to surrender …"

The voice was interrupted by a clattering sound. Thirty or so pairs of eyes turned to look at the one young soldier, who'd thrown down his weapon and was now standing up with his hands in the air. There was an awkward silence and a pause that seemed to last an eternity.

The young man looked confused for a second and then leaned forward picked up his weapon and aimed it back at Sarathane. The others turned their attention back to Sarathane. He just gazed at the crowd and smiled.

An almighty explosion ripped through the crates near the to where the men had barricaded themselves. HK-47 ran through the newly created hole and opened fire with his blaster rifle. A grenade flew over his head, thrown from behind, and landed amongst the crowd. The blue flash of a stun field surrounded most of them.

Sarathane didn't move, as both Canderous and Carth ran from behind him, with their shields on and stun pikes out. They waded into the remaining gunmen, knocking them flying. Sarathane walked over to the officer who was just getting to his feet. He activated one of his sabres and held the point near the man's throat.

"Memory Test for you." He said, "Two Jedi, a man and a woman, were here last week. What happened to them?"

The Officer looked at the Blade and after a quick calculation about survival probabilities started to speak.

"I wasn't on Duty. B shift dealt with them. That's all they said."

_Truth_ Sarathane force instincts told him, as an explosion threw some newly arrived reinforcements over their heads.

"Is there a Jedi round here?"

HK –47 ran past shooting gleefully into crowd of enemy soldiers.

"Yes, The detective is talking to them now."

Carth ran behind Sarathane and into the pile of stunned soldiers, making sure that they remained knocked out.

"Them?"

Canderous knocked out a smaller man with a quick punch to the jaw.

"Three, in the Head Office."

"Thank you." said Sarathane and he put the man to sleep with the force.

"Leave the Dark Jedi to me. " He shouted and for the first time in two years, ignited both his light sabres. Their purple and blue glow lit up the surrounding area with a hazy light.

"Over here Jedi!" the voice dripped with cruelty and malice.

Sarathane turned and saw three hooded figures facing him. They ignited their sabres. One with a single sabre, the other had two sabres and the last had a sabre staff. A three of them glowed red. There was no time to try and distract them with banter as all three came at once.

He threw the force at them, which held the sabre staff in stasis. He was out of the fight for a little while. The Single Sabre attacked with a simple overhead chop. Sarathane's purple sabre blocked it easily, while he ran him through with the Blue. The man died with a look of disbelief on his face.

The duel wielding Jedi had circled round the back of Sarathane and tried to stab him in the back. Sarathane performed a high jump. Forward rolling, even before the first Dark Jedi had hit the floor. He twisted and landed facing his opponent.

The robed man tried to hurt him with a force chokehold, but Sarathane was prepared for that kind of attack. While the robed figure was concentrating on the Force Choke, he didn't have enough time to raise his defences. Sarathane performed a scissors cut and the hapless man was quartered.

The stasis field had worn off from the Sabre Staff and Sarathane quickly found himself on the defensive. Blocking blow after blow from either end of the staff, this Man was fast, almost as fast as Sarathane was. With the present fuzziness in his head, he was not at the top of his abilities.

Sarathane Force Pushed his attacker back into some crates, but this didn't stop him. He just came right back again. Parry, the sabres hissed as he blocked a high strike with the purple sabre. Parry, barely blocking a side strike with the blue sabre. Parry, there didn't seem to a way to go onto the offensive. Parry, He realised his arms were getting tired.

His Opponent tried a high strike again and Sarathane parried by locking his sabres in a cross. All three Sabres fused; Sarathane smacked the man's nose with a head butt. The dark jedi fell back stunned dropping his sabre. Sarathane didn't give him a chance to recover. He stabbed both sabres through his enemy, pinning him to a crate behind.

There was silence. There were no blaster shots, explosions or otherwise. His senses told him that both Canderous and Carth were alive and unhurt. He started running trying to find the main office. He dashed through the maze of crates and arrived at some stairs.

Climbing them quickly, he bashed down the doors and piled through into an office of cluttered data pads and computer terminals with a safe set into the wall on the far wall. Using the force he ripped a safe from the wall. With a quick slice with a light sabre, the heavy door fell off and smashed through the floor.

There were three items within the safe. A grey/white robe, a light sabre and a staff sabre. The robe and the light sabre, he didn't recognise. However, he felt himself go cold with fear as he recognised Bastila's Staff Sabre.


	6. Chapter Six

The aching cold feeling of loss he felt in his gut spread throughout his whole body. The cold made him feel numb, unfeeling and uncaring. The reason for his self-control was gone. He picked up the Sabre staff and turned to leave the office. He was about to open the door, when he heard a sound coming from behind one of the filing cabinets on the floor.

He paused, the sound continued, someone trying to breathe very quietly. Using the force, he ripped the filing cabinet from the floor and out through the office window. Lying, shaking and whimpering, was the fat detective from the enforcement office. He slowly turned round aware that he no longer had cover.

"You killed her, didn't you?" The man cried.

Sarathane didn't care. He picked the man up and threw him against the wall.

"You killed Nene!" The man shouted.

"That's nothing to what I'm going to do to you." Sarathane realised that the jedi who was a wielding two sabres must have been the receptionist from the enforcement office.

"You sold me out. You sold my friends out. And most of all, " he brandished the staff sabre, "you sold her out."

" I had no choice, Nene was sith. She could kill people by looking at them."

"And do know what they used to call me?"

The man shook his head in a panic. Sarathane could feel his anger warm him against the cold.

"They used to call me Revan."

Realisation was evident, if slow to appear, on the man's face. The rage inside Sarathane started to build.

"The only person who stopped Revan from returning is now gone, thanks to you." He reached out with the force and lifted the man up by his neck and extended force pressure against the man's throat.

"She's still alive!" he cried, but Sarathane couldn't hear him.

Then everything stopped. Sarathane looked about. The office, the detective, even Bastila's Saber Staff had gone. There was just him in a white arena. It reminded him of the inside of the prison box he had taken to Tantooine once. He began to recognise the layout of the training ring at the Temple on Courscant.

He knew it couldn't be, even though he'd never been there. It was too white, hard to make out where the edges of doors and stairs were. All exits seemed sealed. The sudden change of environment drained him of his anger. Confusion and puzzlement replaced it. This was somewhere he felt familiar.

"You were born here." Said a voice behind him.

He had no problem in recognising it. It was his.

"Revan?" he asked, hoping against hope it wasn't.

He turned to the voice. Revan was stood about ten metres away. He'd just materialised out of thin air. He was stood in his black robes and with the mask in place. Sarathane knew that the face behind it, after all he saw it everyday in the mirror.

"Who else?" It may have been his voice, but there was a sarcastic twist to it, "After all, where else was I supposed to be."

"Where are we?"

"You don't know." He started laughing, "Oh, this is priceless!"

Sarathane waited for Revan to stop laughing.

"You're in you," He said, still laughing, "Or me! It all depends on your point of view. You've joined me in my prison. Where else to hold the most destructive Sith lord since Exur Kun?"

Sarathane shrugged.

"Ha! They took our personality and memories. They forced them into here. I am in a prison within my own head. Fantastic really, I couldn't come up with torture like that."

"So who came up with my personality? "

"Some random excuse for a being was going to die, so they were going to use his personality," he continued, pointing at his head, "and try to plonk it in here."

The figure in black walked over to the centre of the room and as he approached, two tables formed in front of him. He stood next to the table to the left.

"I was here, and the 'meat bag' was on the other, with … "

"… Vandar between," finished Sarathane, memory was beginning to flood into his mind, "But it didn't work. They took the memories but my..erm.. our personality was too strong."

"They split us in two." Revan walked round the table and pointed at him, "All the bits they could use to make a perfect Jedi were left. The missing was replaced by bits from the 'volunteer'."

"And the rest was sent here. " Sarathane continued, "but they couldn't purge all of it, otherwise I wouldn't have fallen for Bastila, or I couldn't appreciate HK-47 sense of humour. I'm no perfect Jedi."

"Exactly! " Revan exclaimed, "They needed that to find the Star Forge. Vandar and Bastila wanted the whole personality back, but the others were having none of it. 'Too much of a risk' they said. So I've been here, watching and waiting for you to cross the line."

"The line?" Sarathane had an ominous feeling.

"The so called bond is more than a link between us and Bastila. It also re-enforces this prison. Keeps me where they want me to be." Revan started to walk towards Sarathane, "But it's been weakening because she's missing."

"That's why I've found it difficult to use the force." Sarathane started walking back, keeping the same distance from Revan, "It's because of you!"

"Oh they kept the quickness of the mind, didn't they?" Revan gloated sardonically, "And all I had to do is wait until you use your abilities the way I used to and then I get to come back."

Sarathane tensed, "And how do you intend to come back?"

A single red light sabre ignited in Revan's hand.

"Guess!" Said Revan and ran at him.

Sarathane lit only one of his sabres and stood firm. Revan was almost on him when he sidestepped to the right. Revan ran straight past him and tried to swipe, but Sarathane was ready and easily blocked the glancing blow. Revan span and held the sabre at the on-garde position.

Revan started to close and circle. Sarathane observed that his movement was very feline, very predatory. Sarathane switched on his other sabre.

"Show off! " Sarathane could almost hear the sneer behind the mask, "You know the best thing about this bond."

Revan quickly lunged forcing Sarathane to step back.

"It's a two way link, " he continued, "and I can put little suggestions in 'Dear' Bastila's mind anytime I wanted to."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm very subtle." Revan had dropped his voice to a threatening whisper, "It's like an instinctive feeling, not words."

"You're lying." Sarathane could feel the anger build again.

"Why do you think she went over with Malek in the first place?" Raven shouted, "Why do you think she stayed so distant afterwards?"

Screaming, Sarathane charged. He was attacking with both sabres. Revan parried strike after strike without problem.

"That's right," goaded Revan, "The only way out is through me."

Sarathane pushed Revan away and took a step back. He began to realise that he was being provoked. Provoked in exactly the same way he would use to taunt an opponent. It kept them off balance and distracted. Revan began to circle again.

"And there's another thing." He started, "I've got all the memories. I'm the only one who knows who you really are. Every fighting move, we ever learned, all the different force abilities, you didn't use. They're mine. How are you going to be able to stand against that?"

Sarathane altered his stance and prepared himself. More attacks would be coming soon. Revan just stood back and dropped his sabre. He raised his hands and unleashed some familiar blue lightening. Sarathane was thrown back and he clutched himself in pain.

He tried to sit back up but he couldn't. It was agony just to move. He called on the force and the pain eased. Revan just stood away from him. Sarathane grimaced as he pulled himself back on his feet. He called his light sabres to his hands and prepared himself for more of the same.

"Told you," said Revan, "and that's not all I can do!"

Revan threw open his arms and Sarathane was thrown back onto the floor. He could feel the pressure holding him down.

"Once you have been squashed flat, I'll be able to just walk out of here and finish what you've started."

Sarathane concentrated and felt the pressure ease. He had to think his way out of this. There was no way he could match Revan physically. It was then that the memory popped into his mind.

_He and Jolee had been discussing the Dark Side one night on Duneedan. They were both sat round a fire, each trying to pluck up the courage to tackle the stew Mr Brook had left out for them._

"_No, Pure Dark Jedi aren't the problem." Reasoned Jolee._

"_Tell that to Malak!" snorted Sarathane, in reply._

"_You're underestimating him again." Jolee Scolded._

"_How?"_

"_Malek had a vestige of self control, he knew when to use his anger." Explained Jolee, "Now a Dark Jedi that's gone totally over, well they're a lot easier to deal with."_

"_Really Oh wise one?" Sarathane teased, "I supposed you offer him inner peace and everything's all right."_

"_Well there you go again, " replied Jolee, "I'm giving you a solution to a potential trouble spot sometime in the future and it's just a bunch of laughs to you?"_

"_Sorry Jolee, " apologised Sarathane, "I couldn't resist."_

"_Hurumph! That sense of humour of yours is going to get you killed."_

"_As long as I die on-stage?"_

"_Will you stop with that?" Jolee blew out his breath in frustration, "I was going to say, all you have to do is make them really angry."_

"_What?" Sarathane couldn't believe what he was hearing, "They just get stronger. It's easier for them to create force lightning!"_

"_Ah, but it robs them of their reason, "Jolee pointed out, "They make mistakes. Not little ones, huge stupid mistakes."_

_Sarathane was dumbstruck, he hadn't even considered this as a strategy._

"_Oh, no witty comeback?" Jolee smiled wryly, "Hell, I must have said something useful! No the real Dark Jedi I would fear would be one who has patience and control. As long as you can get under their skin, wind them up and, most of all, make fun of them you'll be able to win out everytime."_

"_Everytime?"_

"_Well, You still have to soak up everything they throw at you. It's a theory still to be proven, but I'm sure it will work." Jolee smiled_

Sarathane reasoned that this Revan wasn't the real thing, just a part of the personality. There was no self-control here.

_OK Old Man, _he thought, _time to test your theory_

"So, once you get back, what would you do?" Sarathane asked.

"Eh?"

"I mean that the Star Forge is gone, the Sith are defeated and scattered and there's no way that Bastila would be interested in someone as shallow and self-centred as you."

"The Star forge can be rebuilt. The Sith were just soldiers, there will be others to take their place. And as for the girl, I persuaded her once, it won't take much to persuade her again."

"Oh yes, you will persuade her, but she won't give herself. You'll have to keep persuading her all the time just to keep her under your spell."

"That's not a problem."

"Oh yes it will be, because there will be others to distract your attention. Even if you manage to take over the entire galaxy, will always be something to distract you and she will break your control. After all I know I don't want to rule the galaxy. I don't want to give up my life."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you'll have to do put down a rebellion here and there. People will want jobs, food and money. They will pester you again and again and again to get things done. It will be like the galaxy is ruling you and not the other way round."

"You're making things are what is more complicated then the need to be, I am a dark lord!"

"Oh, that's a great argument for government. 'I'm the dark lord! I can handle everything! '"

Sarathane's voice took on a shrill quality as he pretended to have a conversation with himself.

"Did you hear what he said? He said that he can solve everything. "

"How is he going to do that then?"

"He says he's the dark lord."

"Oooh! That explains it then. You can always solve everything if you are a dark lord!"

Sarathane's mocking conversation ended. He sneered at Revan. He could tell the black figure was getting angry. Revan was gripping his light sabre too hard and the pressure was easing off. Sarathane was able to stand up.

Revan again fired off lightening at Sarathane, but this time Sarathane was ready. He used his abilities to absorb the energy and gave Revan a smug smile.

"Is that the best you can do?" Sarathane put as much condescension in his voice is he could, "Malak could do a lot better!"

Revan tried the lightning again.

"Bastila, would have a field day with you. All you can do is lightning and pushing. Where is the subtlety? The tactical ability? I think I got that!"

Revan ignited his sabre and charged. He was starting to act like a young child having a temper tantrum. Sarathane parried each of his strikes with ease. There was brute strength there, but no finesse.

"Look at you, pounding away like a thick headed Gamorrean. " Sarathane continued to taunt, "This is the power of the dark side? I know of Jawas that can fight better than that!"

Revan jumped back, and fired off even more lightning. Sarathane caught the bolts in his hand and absorbed it.

"Come on! You can do better than that!"

Revan tried again, obviously putting more energy into his abilities. Again Sarathane used the same defence and was left unharmed.

"This is just pathetic! How they didn't manage to stop you before is beyond me."

Revan kept on trying, but it was obvious that the effort was taking its toll. He could hardly stand.

"You're looking bad there!" Sarathane continued to taunt, "You quite sure that you can continue?"

Revan gave one more blast, which Sarathane absorbed easily. Sarathane then reached out and touched Revan's mind. There was no more resistance, he could feel memory being funnelled from Revan to him. An entire life, his previous existence, swamped Sarathane's mind. He collapsed to his knees.

It finished. Revan tottered and then also collapsed on the floor. Sarathane looked at Revan's body. It faded and then disappeared. He turned to face one of the blocked entrances, reached out with the force and punched it through. He walked towards the open door.

"Told you that would work." came a familiar older voice.

"Jolee?" Sarathane looked around.

There was gentle laughing.

"Thanks, You old git!"

He walked through the door.

"I remember!"

"She's still alive." The detective was screaming.

"I know!" Sarathane said softly.

He released his grip and set the detective back down on the floor.

"I know what she was capable of," Sarathane said, referring to Nene,

"There isn't any blame attached to you."

"She made me do so much damage, I don't know what I did and what I didn't do." It was obvious the man was going into shock. Sarathane broke open a medkit and started to treat the man.

"The girl jedi got away, she went a bit mad like you just did!"

"Must be your charming personality then!"

The man smiled, "She dropped her sabre and ran off after the man in white was killed. I heard she got onto a ship, but I wasn't able to find which one or where it was going."

"It's okay," Sarathane reassured the man, "I have a couple of good leads."

Carth saw Sarathane cut down the last jedi and started to run after him. It was difficult to keep up with Sarathane's abilities. He got to the bottom of the stairs when a filling cabinet was thrown out of the office window. He'd got just outside the office door, when he started to hear the detective scream.

Carth glanced into the room to see the force being used in the wrong way. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small silver case. The detective had been pulled off the floor and was being held in midair. Carth flipped open the top of the case and put his thumb over the button.

He could not press it. He gritted his teeth.

_If he kills,_ he reasoned, _then I push this button!_

Then there was a pause. Sarathane changed, his shoulders sagging in relief. The fat man was let down onto the floor. Sarathane started to tend his wounds. They were talking. Carth relaxed and stood up.

"What the hell, are you doing then there?" Canderous shouted from practically next to him.

Carth hadn't noticed Canderous approach. He started and, with reflex, pushed the button. There was a very quiet, soft click.


	7. Chapter Seven

Sarathane looked up from the detective, once he heard Canderous shout. He saw Carth looking at him with shock on his face and an angry looking Mandalorian standing behind him. In Carth's hand was the detonator.

"I hope you didn't press that" Said Sarathane.

The look on Carth face said enough.

"I should be dead." It was a statement of fact. He'd seen the schematics of where the bomb was and knew it should have gone off.

"Sorry, I got startled and pressed the..." Carth looked as if he was going into shock himself.

"Well, I suppose there's no harm done as there's …erm… no real harm been done"

Realisation hit Sarathane that if he had fallen, there would have been no failsafe. Revan could have returned.

"Call this into the council" said Sarathane"there are some things I'm going to need to discuss with them."

They were back in the diner. Sarathane had been in conference with the council all afternoon. Neither Carth nor Canderous had been allowed to attend and Carth was getting agitated about being sidelined.

"So, what did they say"

"Well, the bomb should have gone off" Sarathane replied."And I am now allowed to find Bastila."

"Good" said Canderous"this sneaking around is not my favourite pastime"

"What made them changed their mind" Carth remained curious.

"When I almost killed that detective, it caused the treatment I had to break down. Revan was close to returning."

"Well, if you had killed the fat man, I would have pushed the button."

"Statement: You did press the button." HK 47 observed.

"I mean" said Carth with strained tones"on purpose! You did look as if the dark side had a good hold on you."

"Statement: The device in question was neutralised," HK 47 offered.

All three men looked at the droid.

"Explanation: As soon as I knew your identity, I disabled it. Master"

"How?"

"Clarification: Ion shot while you were asleep! For once shooting my master brought me no pleasure."

"Ha. So Bastila could have pressed the button she had at any time and it wouldn't have worked." said Canderous.

"Well, that's interesting to hear, " said Carth, "but what if Revan tries to 'return' again?"

"There's no chance of Revan returning" Sarathane explained"I now have most of his memories. The others, I'm assuming, were lost when Malak opened fire."

"No chance?" Carth was sceptical.

"None." Sarathane couldn't meet his friend's eyes; he looked out of the diner window observing the street.

"That's remarkable" commented Canderous. "What exactly do you remember"

"I remember, my..er.. Revan's training as an apprentice and padawan. Becoming a Jedi Knight, the Mandalorian wars and the discovery and use of the Star Forge." Sarathane looked strained. "Most of the actions as head of the sith have been lost."

"So, does this mean that you are Revan" Carth looked uncomfortable with the turn of events.

"No. I'm still Sarathane but I've got two sets of memories. This is going to take a little while to sort my head out." explained Sarathane. "The memories of the other life were taken from a scout in the fleet. But how he got into the position of 'volunteering', I have no idea."

"I'm curious," said Canderous as he reached for a mug on the table. "What made Revan fall? From what we know of him, he was very strong minded; it would have taken more than the Star Forge to push him over."

"The Mandalorian war," explained Sarathane, "From the memories, I can recall when it started. You said that Revan's tactics were superior?"

The big man nodded as he sipped kaff from the mug.

"Well, they were Mandalorian tactics that Revan used. In order to beat an adversary, you have to know both yourself, and your enemy."

"Yes, that's all very well, "interjected Carth, " but I can't see how that would make Revan fall?"

"In order to know the Enemy, you must understand them." explained Sarathane, "You must think like them."

"Aha!" Realisation dawned on Canderous, "These plans were total war. I remember that we were surprised that you would go to such lengths."

"Entire planets were sacrificed, sometimes too easily, sometimes for no reason, just too keep the Mandalorians off guard and guessing."

"I don't remember that." said Carth.

"I do," exclaimed Canderous. "For example, one planetary assault I remember was Corvus Minor. It was left completely undefended; we rushed in and decimated the place. But Revan's forces had been waiting and jumped from hyperspace after we had exhausted ourselves."

"The problem was that Revan's forces could and should have engaged the Mandalorians before they hit the planet," countered Sarathane.

"But that would mean more losses in the republic fleet." Carth assessed.

"Yes, but their sacrifice would have meant an entire planet of non-combatants would have survived the war. Corvus Minor had to be abandoned because it was that badly damaged. Millions died instead of thousands."

"But it wiped us out," said Canderous.

"I remember the battle, " Sarathane said, "You saw how many ships and fighters we had, are you saying you would have had a better chance in open space?"

Canderous paused for a second as if he was reliving the battle.

"No" he replied, "Thinking back, we wouldn't. You right that we would have been able to inflict more casualties but the attack would have failed."

"But there must have been a reason for Revan to hold back his forces?" asked Carth.

"Yes, " answered Sarathane, "it was a not so subtle message to the Mandalorians to say that we're going to be able to play them at their own game."

"We lost an entire planet for that!" Carth's raised voice was attracting attention.

"Exactly. If we'd gone the way the Jedi Council wanted to, the war would have lasted longer but there wouldn't have been the threat from the sith afterwards."

"But more people would have died." Exclaimed Carth.

"Yes," admitted Sarathane, "but you forgot to add on the amount of people who died during the Sith war."

"Eh?" Carth looked a little confused.

"I look at it this way, " explained Sarathane, "If Revan and Malak had waited, then more people would have died during the Mandalorian War. Right?"

The two men nodded.

"But because as a direct consequence of Revan and Malak, they reinstituted the Sith and fought another war against the republic!"

"OK, I'm with you so far," said Carth.

"So if you add up all the casualties from both the Sith war and Revan and Malak's Mandalorian War, I'll bet my life that that casualty number is lot more than if we'd followed the Jedi Council's advice."

"But that's all speculation," said Carth.

"Carth." Sarathane fixed his friend with a hard stare, "If Revan had followed the council's advice then your wife would probably still be alive."

There was an awkward silence.

"That's a very unfair way to win an argument." Carth said.

"I'm sorry Carth," apologised Sarathane"but I believe it to be true."

"This is getting off the point, " Carth said, trying to change the subject, "We now have no leads on Bastila."

"I do have an idea. She'll want somewhere to reflect."

"Isn't this 'bond' of yours any good?" asked Canderous, "I thought you could tell where she was anywhere in the Galaxy?"

"Normally I could, but it's flapping about like a flag in the wind. She doesn't seem to be on the other end."

"But it might be enough to give you a clue?" said Carth, "What have you got to lose?"

The three of them were standing in the lounge of the Hawk. Carth had appropriated a hologram map of the Galaxy. He took a small sphere and set it up on a stand in the centre of the room and activated it. The entire lounge of the ship was filled with small pinpricks of light. Each light was a star, the entire Galaxy laid before them.

"We are here" Carth pointed to a flickering light on the far side of the room.

Sarathane walked over to be the indicated light. He turned to face the centre of the room and closed his eyes. He reached for the bond. Again he could feel the untethered end of the link, but it did seem to float around a single point. He walked forward with his eyes still closed, following the path of the bond. He came to the end of it, reached up and tried to grasp it. He opened his eyes. His hand was hovering over a star system not far from the core worlds. He called up the system details and took a step back in shock.

"Of course, I should have known" whispered Sarathane to himself.

"You got something" Canderous asked.

Sarathane nodded, the colour drained from his face.

"I will plot a course?" queried Carth.

Sarathane nodded again. The two other men exchanged quizzical works. It was as if Sarathane had just seen a ghost.

"Well, here we are" Carth announced.

The three men and two droids were all sitting in the cockpit of the Hawk. Ahead of them was a small green planet orbiting a nondescript yellow sun.

"Welcome to Myrkr,." commented Canderous, "An ideal place to get away from everything. No facilities, no settlements and lots of trees."

"There should be a small spaceport on the far side of the planet," Sarathane pointed out, "I want you to put down there and drop me off. Alone!"

"Statement: I cannot let you proceed alone." HK 47 commented.

"Yes you will 47 because otherwise I'll activate your kill code."

The droid stayed quiet.

"I need you to be back here in a week to pick me up." Sarathane continued.

They sat in silence, as the planet grew bigger in the viewport. The green sphere slowly expanded until it turned into the curvature of the planet and in no time at all, they were flying over the forest, approaching the Hyllyard City spaceport.

"Coming into land." Announced Carth.

Sarathane looked up and noticed where they were going to land.

"No." He shouted, "Not that close to the forest. Don't…"

He blacked out.

It took a couple of minutes for him to come round. He'd forgotten what this felt like, or rather Revan's memories told him what it felt like. There were a couple of concerned looking blurs trying to rearrage themselves before his eyes.

"Query: Is it some kind of Meat bag fault?" came one voice.

"I dunno." came another, "I've never seen anything like this before."

"Query: Maybe a shock like a blaster bolt might wake him up?"

"Somehow I doubt that." A third voice.

Sarathane shook his head to clear it and looked at his three companions. They had concern on their faces and it looked as if HK 47 had developed some kind of oil leek from his faceplate.

"The forest here is unique in the Galaxy." Sarathane explained as he tried to get to his feet, "There are small creatures within these trees which block my ability to use the force."

Carth helped him back into his seat.

"No force powers?" asked Canderous.

Sarathane only had the energy to nod. The effect from the forest was almost overwhelming. He knew from Revan's memories there would be an adjusting period; it was just going to have to take time. He noticed Canderous smile grimly.

"Welcome to the world of real people." He said.

"These creatures…" began Carth.

"Ysalamiri." Interrupted Sarathane.

"Yeah, right. Ysalamiri then. They block it totally?" Carth finished.

Sarathane was getting over the shock.

"Yes! Revan had an advanced training facility here." he explained.

"That's strange." commented Canderous, "Even for Revan."

"He found it easier to train some recruits under these conditions." He replied and summoned the strength to stand. He wobbled."

Look, I think we should accompany you." Carth concern seemed overwhelming.

"No, I have to sort this out alone."

"Not even 47."

"Especially not. He'll try and burn down the whole forest in a pre-emptive strike!"

"Extrapolation: Negative master, I would do no such thing." HK 47 sounded indignant.

"Really?"

"Explanation: It would be an automated response to threat parameters!"

"Just be here in a week. I'll see you then." Again he found he couldn't look his friends straight in the eyes.


	8. Chapter Eight

Stomp! Slash!

Stomp! Slash!

Sarathane was in the same rhythm he'd been in for the last twelve hours. Take a step forward. Stomp! Clear more forest out of the way. Slash! His sabre cut through some branches and undergrowth. Stomp! There wasn't much time left before dark and he had to reach the camp. Slash! Normally he could call on the force to rejuvenate his tired limbs. Stomp! But he couldn't here, not with the Yasimari about. Slash! He was getting very tired.

In the distance he could see the clearing. So he gathered his strength and made a final effort. Clumsily, he slashed his way through into space. Breathing heavily, he found himself almost collapsing onto the grass. Bent over, his arms on his knees, he waited until he caught his breath before taking in his surroundings.

The place was exactly as it was in Revan's memory. The clearing consisted of a wide-open space of grass, with five timber buildings of varying size, in the centre. He knew that Revan's was the largest and Malak's would have been the one closest to it. The other three were set-aside for guests. A memory popped into Sarathane's head, Malak's first day here.

"Master, your presence!" a panicked voice sounded, "It's gone!" 

"Calm yourself, Padawan," his own voice replied, "The force doesn't work here as it should."

_"Then why bring me here?"_

_"Education," was the reply, "You work out why we are here, and then we can proceed to the next part of the training. We'll leave after that."_

It only took Malak two weeks Normally, a Padawan would take a month or longer.

_"Master, it's to understand how normal people feel. We have to appreciate what we have got."_

_"Apprentice, empathise with the less fortunate. It's your duty to be there for them, because no-one else can!" _

Sarathane could feel Revan's delight and disappointment. Delight that his apprentice was such a quick learner and disappointment because it meant leaving here. This place was a refuge from the constant pull of temptation from the dark side and the pressures of responsibility.

Sarathane felt the same disconnected voyeurism anytime one of these memories surfaced. His previous existence was both a fascination and repulsion to him, but there was no way to turn off the reminiscence, as much as he would like.

The buildings hadn't changed. He looked about for the droids that had been left to look after the place. He could see their tracks but there was no other evidence of their presence. He started to explore his surroundings. He'd just rounded Malak's hut when he saw her.

Bastila Shan was stood with her back to him, in a meditative position. She was standing on one leg, with the other tucked behind the knee. Her arms pointed into the sky, hands clasped at the top, creating a triangle. He watched, mesmerised, as she moved to a different stance. Her actions were slow, graceful and restrained. There were many dancers who would be envious of her posture, let alone her movement.

He decided to wait until she'd finished her cycle. Realisation began to sink in. After all the searching, trials and tribulation, he found that he was scared to talk to her. Scared of her reaction.

_Better face the fear, _he thought as Bastila finished her cycle.

He knocked on the side of the hut. Her reaction was instantaneous. Forward rolling, she twisted and stood up facing the source of the sound.

"You!" Her voice was high with shock and surprise.

"Me?" He tried to make light of her surprise by looking about as if she was referring to someone else.

"I don't have time to play silly games." Her anger was completely unexpected. "I don't believe it. I was doing so well."

Sarathane took a step back. "Time?"

She stormed past him, heading for the biggest hut, ignoring his comment.

"Hey," he called after her, "I've been over half the galaxy looking for you. Don't I get a hello at least?"

She reached the door, opened it and walked through.

"Hello," she called from inside, "and here's another word you might need to hear. Goodbye!"

The door slammed!

The grass was wet when he woke up next morning. Ahead of him were the remains of the fire he had set last night. He shivered in the cold. He must have fallen asleep after he'd got it lit. He started when he heard a bleeping sound next to him.

A caretaker droid was managing the lawn and was observing him curiously. The silver slug-like droid was as long as a forearm and as wide as palm spread. It's job, and that of the twenty or so similar droids, consisted of running around the site making sure the grass stayed short and the forest didn't try to intrude into the clearing. The fact that this clearing still existed after all this time was testament to their efficiency.

"What's the matter?" Sarathane asked the droid, "you never seen anybody fall asleep in the wrong place before?"

The droid bleeped disapproval and continued managing the lawn. Sighing, Sarathane reached into his backpack and pulled out a ration bar and data pad. He stared to survey the far end of the camp, drawing outlines and laying out plans. He lost track of time as he felt the heat of the sun begin to warm him. He failed to notice its meandering progress overhead or the movement of the shadows it cast around him.

"Erm… Hello," her voice said from behind him. It was hesitant and fearful.

"Morning." He said as neutrally as he could, not looking round.

"Listen, I …" she paused again, the silence stretched out into seconds. He ignored it and carried on scribbling on the data pad.

"Yes?" he asked after the silence had been promoted from awkward to uncomfortable. He still didn't look round.

There was a sigh and she walked into his field of vision. He glanced up and saw her properly for the first time in two years. She still had the exquisite beauty, the high cheekbones, small nose and her hair was tied back away from her face. She'd hardly changed since he'd met her. But it was her eyes that shocked him.

The blue-grey of her eyes were not clear anymore. They were bloodshot. There seemed to be dark circles visible underneath. It was obvious she hadn't slept too well the previous night.

"Hey!" Sarathane softened his voice with concern.

"Look." She was half mumbling and not really looking at him, "I'm sorry about yesterday. You kind of took me by surprise."

Sarathane gestured for her to sit. She did so, very slowly.

"You surprised me straight back," he commented, "I must admit, I think Malak was more welcoming."

She flinched.

"Look, I'd just like to know where all that came from?" he asked, "I hadn't seen you for a few years and well …" he let the sentence hang.

"I've discovered a few things about myself that I don't really like," she admitted, "I came here to try and clear my head and sort some things out. I thought I was finally making some progress, and then you turn up out of the blue."

"Sorry, " he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Oh, I would have yelled at anyone who came; the fact it was you made it worse."

He was taken aback by that revelation.

"Just to satisfy my curiosity, " he said, "I made it worse?"

She smiled sheepishly, "You spoilt my surprise. I was going to come back to the Order once I'd finished here."

"Well, myself and Carth disobeyed orders to find you." Sarathane explained, "You even made the official bounty hunter lists."

"Carth is here?" she said looking about.

"No. Him, Canderous and the droids are probably putting their feet up somewhere at the moment, off planet. I just wanted to have an opportunity to talk to you first."

"Pity, " she sighed, "I would have liked to have seen them."

"You will," he confirmed, "but don't you think we've got a few things to sort out before they turn up?"

It was the reaction to this question that Sarathane found most disturbing. Without the benefit of the Force, he couldn't feel the bond between himself and Bastila, neither of them could. She looked so fearful and confused, it was as if Malak had just walked up to her and announced he going to start tap-dancing.

"Y.y.yes." she stammered, trying to recover, "but not today. I promise we will talk but not now. It's a little too much all in one go. "

"Didn't think I was that overwhelming." Sarathane mused, scratching his chin. Bastila smiled weakly. "There is a lot to discuss, " she admitted, "but it's getting close to evening and you shouldn't spend another night out."

Sarathane looked around him and realised with all his work on the data-pad he must have seriously lost track of the time. Revan's memories jolted into his mind for a second. It was one of Revan's favourite reasons for being here, the loss of time. Sighing, he got to his feet.

"I'll take that hut over there." He said pointing to the largest of the guest huts.

"There's the one next to mine." Bastila suggested.

A thought occurred to Sarathane.

"How did you find this place?" he asked.

"Master Vandar gave me the coordinates." She seemed confused by the sudden switch in conversation, but Sarathane began to feel fatigue being to take him.

"That's OK," he answered the bemused looking woman in front of him, "I've probably got some explaining to do myself tomorrow."

The next day, he slept in late. He'd begun to realise how tired he was. There wasn't any way to recover apart from rest. Looking around the room, he saw an old style chest of drawers, one small footlocker and a cupboard. Leaving the bed, he walked over the cupboard and pulled out the clothes he'd unpacked there.

After he had dressed, he picked his sabres up from the chest of drawers and looked over them. He'd crafted both of them. He'd taken care of them and they had taken care of him.

"Not going to need you two anymore," he muttered.

Opening the top drawer, he let them fall from his hand into the drawer. Forcefully, he slammed the drawer shut and walked out.

Bastila was working though her exercise routines in the same place he found her before. He decided to let her be. He walked back to his spot by the burnt out fire and sat down. Again, he produced a data pad and started work.

There was now familiar loss of time, and when he broke concentration, he found Bastila standing over him, blocking out the sunlight.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, I was looking for you, remember?"

"No, with the data pad."

"I'm working something out," he replied.

"That's ominous." The reply was light.

He looked up. She was stood staring down at him, hands on hips. She was glowing with perspiration from the exercises she'd been doing and was still trying to catch her breath.

"The clearing is too wide for the settlement," Sarathane observed, "I remembered the reason and I've been trying to work out where it is."

Bastila looked around confused.

"Where what is?"

"The maintence bots keep the forest back by quite a bit, OK?"

Bastila nodded, not quite following where he was going with this.

"They also have low level sonic emitters which repulse both the Ysalamiri and their predators back even further."

"So you reason that somewhere in this camp you can use the force again?" she said.

"Exactly." He stood up and looked round the camp. "It's only a small hole but it might be what I need."

"Need?" she looked at him quizzically.

"In fact it's right..." He sidestepped three times and was almost overwhelmed by awareness.

"Here," he finished in a small voice.

The fatigue had gone. The peace had returned. He could feel the connection. It reminded him of regaining one of his senses. It was like the return of hearing when you removed ear protectors, or the smell of fresh food after clearing a head cold. You don't appreciate it until you regain it.

Suddenly another presence entered the force, and the bond with Bastila, which had eroded over the years, re-established itself with a vengeance. He could feel her hopes, fears and her awareness. He knew Bastila Shan. It was obvious that he was just as open to her. He could feel her as her body pressed against his, he could feel her breath as she came close. He could feel the desire and longing from her, building in a crescendo of emotion.

There was a small, panicked whisper. "No," and the bond vanished.

He blinked as if he woke up. Bastila stood three feet in front of him. Tears were glistening in the sunlight as they ran down her face.

"It's not fair," she said, trying to control her emotion, "I've worked so hard to get back to how I was, and now you've ruined it."

Sarathane grimaced as he left the force bubble. "Ruined what?"

"I want to be me again. The bond wrecks my control. Do you have any idea how difficult it was being around you at Duneeden?"

Sarathane couldn't think of anything to say.

"It was like fighting an addiction. It would have been so easy to succumb. You helped me back but if I fall to passion again, would I fall to the dark side again?"

She paused to sob again.

"You had a gift, which in the end, saved us all," replied Sarathane, "You didn't have orders to bring Revan back alive. You could have left him for dead. But if you had, do you think the Republic would have won?"

"Your abilities made you different from your peers," he continued, "you were left alone, isolated and vulnerable."

"But I fell; there's no excuse." The tears began to flow freely as her emotional control shattered

"Others fell. They had more experience. Older Jedi, supposedly wiser Jedi, they fell as well."

"I was supposed to be better than that!" she cried, " I was the only Jedi for a generation with the ability of Battle Meditation. I shouldn't have fallen."

He softened his voice, "But you came back. You stopped the war. Even if I had not been able to stop Malak, your abilities would have destroyed the Star Forge by themselves. Just as you saved Revan for the greater good, I did the same with you."

"Was that why?" she sobbed, "Nothing more?"

"Of course there was more, " he said pointing to the spot there the force bubble resided, "but you've just denied both our bond back there."

She blinked through the tears.

"It's just I thought you wouldn't want to go into it, just now," he said quietly.

He walked over and held her. She resisted at first, but then relented, quietly sobbing into his shoulder.

"You've got to let the guilt go," he whispered softly, "The rest of the galaxy forgave you a long time ago."

"Even if we had, we would have never been equal. Your abilities would have dominated me. It was overwhelming just now." She cried softly. She paused to look up at him.

He smiled sadly and said, "In this place, we're equal."

There hadn't seemed more to say than that. Bastila, emotionally exhausted, had needed help getting to her cabin. Sarathane put her to bed and after making sure she was comfortable, left the cabin. After closing the door, he paused.

"One day, I'll let you know what you mean to me," he whispered, "but only when you're ready."


	9. Chapter Nine

"Well you look comfortable!" Her voice was sarcastic but light hearted.

Sarathane was trying to imitate the medative positions that he'd seen Bastila use in the previous few days. Presently, he was standing on one leg and wobbling very badly in the slight breeze.

"I never really got the hang of meditation." he replied.

"Liar!" she said, with a smile, "For starters, your stance is wrong."

Sarathane felt the pull of deja-vu.

"Look, it's easy," she said, standing next to him.

"Feet apart"

She demonstrated. He copied.

"Don't do anything first, feel your balance and then count back from four."

Sarathane closed his eyes and started to count. His awareness of the surroundings started to grow as he counted down. He could feel the breeze trying to sway him. He heard rustle of the leaves and branches in the nearby trees, with the chirp of birds and noise from other animals.

"Four. " said Bastila, "Now move your left ankle and touch it to your thigh above your right knee. Hold for four."

He did so, trying to keep his balance. Without access to the Force, he found it difficult to keep steady. He hadn't realised how much he'd relied on it for small things. He felt awkward and clumsy.

"It takes practice to get it right," Bastila said, as if reading his mind, "I was all over the place first time I tried."

"I can understand that," he replied, swaying unnervingly.

"Right, that's four. Now slowly move the arms up in a triangle until they can't stretch anymore."

Sarathane did so, finding his balance.

"Now four sets of four," Bastila said. "And that's the tree position."

Sarathane didn't reply; he'd closed his eyes and begun to relax. His ears could pickup Bastila's slow and steady breathing. He could also feel the chaos, which had been raging in his mind for the last few months, begin to ease away. He breathed again. A gust of breeze blew against him. Surprised by it, he lost his balance and fell. The ground was hard and painful, especially when he wasn't expecting it.

"And that must be the lumberjack position?" Bastila commented dryly.

Sarathane sat up and turned to look at her.

"It was on purpose."

"Really!"

"Yes," he said getting to his feet. "It's an experiment in flight."

"Oh?" Bastila was trying not to smile.

"There is a trick to it."

"Which is?"

"Throw yourself at the ground and miss."

She laughed out loud this time, losing her balance.

"There's something wrong with you if you find that joke, THAT funny," he commented.

"It's not that, " she replied, "It's just that's so you!"

"What do you mean by that?" He asked the leading question on purpose.

"To be honest, " she replied, "I don't know."

"Well, I'm also a messenger." He said trying to change the subject, "Look in the backpack over by the wall."

Bastila looked around and spotted the small, non-descript backpack raised up against the wall. She bent down, opened it and gasped. She seemed to freeze for a second and then carefully pulled out her old sabre staff.

"Where did you get this?" asked Bastila.

"Off a dead Sith," he replied, " I know what happened."

"Oh no," she quietly whispered, "What must you think?"

"You didn't kill anybody," he said, "You could have struck in anger but didn't."

"Do you know how close I came?" she said.

He could hear her voice tremble.

"More than you know." he replied, recalling his own confrontation.

She turned to face him; her eyes wide open with panic.

"How can you know?" she raised her voice as she began losing control.

"Bastila Shan. " Sarathane turned his voice more forceful, "I am here to

inform you that the council has been deliberating about your recent activities and have asked me to inform you of their verdict."

Bastila seemed shocked by the sudden turn of the conversation; she quickly regained her composure and control. Standing tall, she looked defiantly at Sarathane.

"You are to be assigned the rank of Jedi Knight and, upon your convenience, you are to report to the council on Coruscant for assignment."

He let the words sink in for a moment. She just stood there looking ahead in a daze. He walked over to her. There was no response. He waited, she blinked.

"I don't believe it." She said, cradling the light sabre as if it was a new born baby.

"You did it," he said, "You've made it back, as far as they are concerned and you did it by your self!"

"I'm a Jedi again?" She was still stunned.

He smiled and waited.

"They were waiting weren't they?" she asked.

Sarathane nodded. "They were waiting for an occasion which would push to you the brink again. If you went over, then they have, err…" he trailed off.

"Contingencies?" she finished. "Just like the one they had with you."

Sarathane grimaced, "When you were with Malak, you never pressed the kill switch on me?"

"I couldn't," she replied. "I knew that I had to see you one last time before I did anything. I was also too scared. What would the bond have done to me?"

"Ah yes," he sighed, "Our bond…"

This was beginning to turn into the conversation he was dreading.

"Another time." she said, "I've got a bottle of Best Corrilian in the hut. I think this calls for a drink to celebrate."

"OK," he agreed. It would have been the special reserve left over from the last time Revan visited. It seemed fitting that it would be used to celebrate the return of one of Revan's nemeses.

"Then I can start packing," she said.

Sarathane rose the next morning with the sound of many drummers in his head. Painfully, slowly, he raised himself out of bed and looked blearily into the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and his mouth felt as if he'd been using sand paper on it.

An image of Bastila, drunk and singing songs that would make a Sith Trooper blush, popped into his mind. As did his attempts at teaching her how to dance in the style of the Duneeden Clans. He cringed in embarrassment. The special reserve had flowed right enough.

He tried to freshen up in the shower but there wasn't any hot water. It was torture. He towelled himself off, dragged some fresh clothes from his backpack, put them on and opened the door. It was very bright and he squinted in the sunlight.

"Ow!" he muttered.

"Oh, there you are?" Bastila called, her voice was incredibly cheery and upbeat, "I was wondering when you were going to surface?"

"Waa ..." was all he could manage.

"Thanks for last night by the way," she continued, in the most irritating happy voice Sarathane had ever heard. "I think we must have needed to let out hair down, so to speak"

"Uurrggh..." he started. "How come you're so full of the joys of life?"

"Oh? I just used the Force pocket." She looked him over. "You look as if you need a go at it."

"Thanks." he grumbled and dragged himself to the spot marked by the fire.

As soon as he walked into the force bubble, he was rejuvenated. The hangover was lifted from him like a feather lifted by the wind. He took a deep breath, relaxed and stretched out his feelings within. All seemed well as he let his consciousness flow though the many connections and eddies of the Force.

As He began to return to his present position, there seemed to be some kind of anomaly or disturbance close by. It felt darkly familiar. He searched his mind for the familiarity. It registered.

He jumped out of the force bubble and gasping like a fish out of water, started to run towards the huts. Bastila was stacking various pieces of equipment outside the main hut. She saw him running.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't reply as he ran into his hut. He ran over to the dresser and threw open the top drawer and picked up both light sabres. He quickly upended his backpack on his bed and hidden amongst the various items was a heavy blaster pistol. He quickly threw on a scruffy jacket and hid the pistol inside, round his back

"What's going on?" Bastila said, as she appeared in the door with her light-staff in hand.

"We are going to have a visitor!" said Sarathane.

"Who?"

"I don't know yet," he replied, "but it's a presence I've not felt since..."

Sarathane pushed past a bewildered looking Bastila and ran out into the centre of the clearing. He was almost at the marked spot when he heard her voice.

"You're a hard man to track down Revan!" came the familiar feminine voice.

He slowly turned towards its source. Images of Korriban and the Twi'lek woman he fought and then befriended filled his mind. However, the woman he could now see was very different.

She was a lot thinner than he remembered. Her tattered clothing just seemed to hang off her body but it was the face that shocked him. Badly scarred and with one of her head tails missing, he doubted he would have recognised her if she hadn't of spoken.

"Yuthura!" he breathed.

"You do recognise me?" Her voice was tight with emotion.

"Yes, of course I do," he replied, "What happened to you?"

"I tried to contact your Jedi friends and look what they did to me."

Sarathane did not need to use the Force to feel hatred and anger that was evident in Yuthura. She was stood about four metres away, standing tall with both hands behind her back.

"Why didn't you contact me directly?" asked Sarathane, "The whole galaxy knew where I was!"

"What's going on here?" Bastila shouted as she ran up behind Sarathane.

Sarathane glanced over at Bastila.

"They say your dead!" Yuthura laughed at Sarathane. Her voice took on a mocking tone.

"The Jedi Master who destroyed the Great Star Forge died of his wounds. The Order regrets the passing of such a contributing and enlightening presence. "

"What?" Sarathane took a step back.

"Revan!" smiled Yuthura, "They're that scared of you, they've killed you off without telling you."

"Is this true Bastila?" asked Sarathane.

"Bastila!" shrieked Yuthura, locking eyes with the woman next to Sarathane. "I've always wanted to meet you!"

Bastila returned Sarathane's glance with a nervous shake of her head. Sarathane fixed his attention back onto Yuthura. She was glaring at Bastila with such venom that she seemed oblivious to Sarathane now. One thing was obvious; whatever experiences Yuthura had been through, it had robbed her of prestige, money and ultimately her reason.

"Why would you want to meet me of all people?" asked Bastila to Yuthura.

"I was next in line to be Malak's apprentice when you were turned." Yuthura spat at Bastila, "If you hadn't fallen, then I would have been there to stop the fall of the Star Forge instead of you. AND I WOULD NOT HAVE FAILED!"

Yuthura turned her attention back to Sarathane, "Instead, I listened to you and your 'the Jedi will forgive' speech. YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW THEY TRIED TO FORGIVE ME?"

She was shouting uncontrollably, shaking with rage.

"They took a light staff to my head. They saw my uniform and attacked. I didn't even have a chance to explain."

"I'm sorry Yuth…" Sarathane started.

"So I've come to pay you back. " Yuthura continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "I'm going to remove from the galaxy everything you ever cared about, your friends, your ship and your droids. "

She paused as if remembering something.

"In fact I've already started."

Sarathane's blood ran cold. Yuthura brought an object from behind her back and threw it onto the floor at Sarathane's feet. He looked down and saw HK-47's decapitated head staring back up at him.

He reached down and lifted the head up. There was still a small amount of power left, lighting the eyes

"HK?" Sarathane said softly.

The voice was tinney and quiet. "Humiliation: A Meatbag did this! The Shame, how can I live with the shame…" The remaining light went out from the eyes.

There was a snap hiss of a light sabre, not from Yuthura but from Bastila. All Sarathane could do was watch. It was over in an instant. Yuthura ignited her own sabre and catching Bastila's strike, twisting it. This put Bastila off balance and Yuthura grabbed the other woman, throwing her to the floor. Bastila's light staff flew off into the distance. Yuthura's sabre hovered closed to Bastila's neck. Yuthura had her back to Sarathane and shouted over her shoulder.

"Take you sabres out slowly Revan!" Yuthura ordered.

Sarathane grimiced and put HK-47's head on the ground. He stood up drawing out a sabre. He threw it where he thought he'd saw Bastila's staff land.

"The other one or the pretty one here gets a new place to breathe through!"

Sarathane drew out his other sabre and threw it in completely the opposite direction.

"No." whispered Bastila.

"You first!" Yuthura shouted at Bastila and raised her sabre over her head, preparing to strike.

"It's me you want Yuthura!" shouted Sarathane, "The others can wait, but deal with me first."

"I want to see your face when her head comes off." She sneered.

"Well, you can't see my face when you're facing away from me."

Kicking Bastila down again, Yuthura circled round with both Sarathane and Bastila in front of her. Yuthura smiled.

"You don't have to do this." Sarathane began to sound desperate. "You can leave it all the anger behind like you did before."

The smile turned into an unnerving grin.

"Say goodbye to the love of your life." She sounded gleeful and raised the sabre.

Time seemed to slow for Sarathane, He reached round to his back. Yuthura span the sabre about her head. He gripped the pistol and brought it round. Yuthura began to bring the sabre down to strike Bastila. Sarathane fired a snapshot and missed. The blade began to gather speed. Sarathane fired another snapshot hitting Yuthura in the arm. The blade continued to fall. Sarathanes third shot hit Yuthura in the head. As she began to fall backwards, Sarathane started to run forwards to both women.

There was a scream from Bastila as the sabre hit. He reached Bastila, the lightsabre was still sizzling close to her head. He checked her over. She was alive but shaking and in shock. He reached over to Yuthura's sabre and switched it off. He sat Bastila up straight; she was looking straight ahead, eyes wide open but not seeing. Her hair began to fall around her as he realised the sabre had cut half of her hair off. She had been missed by literary a hair's breadth.

"Bastila?"

No response, but she continued to quiver.

"It's over, She's dead."

There was still no response.

He leaned over and slowly touched his lips to hers. The shaking began to stop and he felt some response. He kissed more and felt a hand stroke the back of his head. He slowly broke away but stayed very close.

"I was so scared," she whispered.

He said nothing and just held her.

"Some Jedi if I still get that scared." She started to sob.

"You didn't deserve that, " he said.

He held her as she cried into his shoulder and looked over at Yuthura's body.

"Neither of you did!"


	10. Chapter Ten

Sarathane awoke in a familiar bed: his own, or rather, Revan's. He sat up and looked around the large hut. It was a typical shelter used to house people after some kind of disaster. It had its own power generator, wind trap for water and communication array. It was a complete self-sufficient hideaway.

There was a large amount of items on display on the shelves. The Jedi normally banned possessions, but it seems seemed that Revan had ignored this rule even before the Star Forge. The irony was that he knew every bit of detail about the items displayed, but it was his first time here. He grimaced whilst trying to deal with the duality of it all.

The bed moved as Bastila stirred next to him. The exhaustion from the previous day had taken her. She'd collapsed in the bed after Sarathane had buried Yuthura and packed up the speeder bike outside the hut. He shuddered, recalling the vacant look on Bastila's face when he'd said a few words over the grave within the 'Force pocket' in the clearing.

Bastila rolled over and pressed herself against him, still asleep. He gently held her while taking in the surroundings.

"You have no idea …" he whispered.

"Yes, I do," she replied quietly. "You think I'm that stupid not to notice?"

Sarathane looked down at her, unable to say anything.

Bastila slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. She smiled sheepishly.

"It's funny really, it was only when the Twi'lek turned up did I realise that what I was feeling was real."

Sarathane said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"You tried very hard to hide your emotions, but our bond makes that impossible." Her expression turned quizzical. "Didn't you ever wonder if the feelings we had were because of the bond, not part of it?"

He shook his head, fearful for interrupting her train of thought.

"That was my theory. I was only attracted to you because of the bond. Remove that bond and I would be back to how I was before."

Sarathane sighed. "So you thought that the only reason I was attracted to you was because of the bond?"

"It seemed the logical explanation at the time," she admitted, sitting up and facing him, " but here, there is no way we could connect as usual. I thought I was right, until you turned up."

"Sorry!"

"No, don't be," she said quickly, " Because I got it so wrong. The same feelings I had with the bond came back. These feelings are real…"

She paused and looked away.

" And I don't know what to do."

"The bond has its downside," he replied.

Bastila looked confused. "After all that I've said, I can't see why?"

"I remember everything now," he admitted. "Revan's original training, being a Jedi, being a Master and his fall. Do you think you could handle that once the bond is re-established? "

Bastila looked shocked, "How could they come back? When I scanned Revan …"

"Me."

"No, Revan." Bastila's face seemed full of certainty. "You are not Darth Revan."

"You seem very sure."

"I know I'm sure. Remember, I had to watch you. Even as you were learning about the Force, you approached things differently. You, as a Jedi, were different."

"Who was the template?" Sarathane's voice hardened. "Who else died so that I could be?"

"Sarathane Dfire." Her answer was quick and abrupt. "He was a scout in the Navy. He was our pilot for the Jedi strike force and was injured on the attack on Revan's star ship. He, like Revan, was hurt in mind as well as in body. Force Sensitive as well, although he didn't know it. He was real, as were his memories."

"You took us to Coruscant," said Sarathane. "You were present when they performed the operation. Transplanting Dfire's personality into Revan, but something went wrong."

"No! Nothing went wrong," Bastila insisted, "There was some residual left over from Revan which was handled, but …"

"That's what my problem is," Sarathane interrupted. "One of the reasons that Vandar gave me these co-ordinates was because I confronted the residual. I had to confront it. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but once it was subdued, all the memories came back."

"All of them?"

Sarathane pointed to a ceremonial mask in the top left of the hut. "That was given, in thanks for help rescuing a small child on Botwari Eight."

He pointed to a small cylindrical object.

"Taken in a duel with the Sith Lord Trake. His son was at our academy, you know. Revan killed him to take control of the Sith."

He turned and looked Bastila straight in the eye.

"This entire encampment is Revan's."

Realisation slowly dawned on Bastila. "There was nothing in the records about this place."

"There's a lot about Revan that isn't in the records," he admitted. "How did you find out about it?"

"Master Vandar suggested that it might be a good place to relax," she replied. "He didn't tell me about the unique conditions here."

"Yes, he does like his surprises!" Sarathane smiled grimly. "Anyway, Revan's remnant claimed he could affect you through our bond, and that's why you left."

"No." Bastila shook her head slowly. "I left to try and prove my theory about the bond. There was no input from the Dark Side with that decision."

"You sure?"

" Positive!" She smiled weakly. "After all I've been through, I'd know."

Sarathane sighed heavily and got out of the bed. He walked over to the mask by the wall. He picked it off the shelf and looked at it.

"What's wrong?" Bastila was puzzled by Sarathane's reaction. "We can go anywhere now, without the shadow of Revan following us!"

Sarathane turned to look at her. She could tell from the tension showing on his face that something was not right.

"We can be together!" she said, almost pleading.

"I can't leave here," he said.

"What?" Bastila whispered, shock evident in her voice.

"I made a deal with Vandar."

"Deal?"

"I leave the Order and stay here until I'm told otherwise," he said, looking back down at the mask again.

"In return for what?" she exclaimed.

"I get to tell you that you've regained your Knighthood," he replied.

"Just that?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand!" she cried out. "You're loyal to the Order. They should have no reason to exile you!"

"It's funny really. When Yuthura said I had died, I knew that they'd put their plan into action. I just had to know if you were part of it."

"But why?"

"You're the one who always said the Council knows best!"

"That was before," Bastila's voice began to sound strained. "Why not forget that, we could both leave."

"You've just made Knight." His voice turning hard, he asked, "You want to throw that away?"

She turned away from him. Her face was impassive. He could tell she was confused by his reaction; normally he would be one of the first to ignore the Council's commands, but something had changed.

"Come with me," he said sharply, throwing her a gown.

Bastila followed Sarathane out of the cabin and back into the clearing. The morning dew made the grass under their bare feet feel colder than usual. The sun had not fully risen, and the morning chill seemed to emphasize the sudden tension between them.

Sarathane walked over to the grave and stood in the Force pocket around it. He gestured for Bastila to join him. Hesitant, nervously she edged near to him until the Force exploded in her awareness. While she was trying to control the overwhelming flood of awareness, he grabbed her hand. The bond between them flared into life.

She could feel herself joined to him--she could see everything about him. His hopes, fears, loves and despairs could be read as easily as an open book, but there was something else. The sickening chill of fear and the burning heat of anger were subtly hidden from view.

She suddenly understood what she was being protected from. Revan was hiding in the background like a thief in shadow, waiting quietly for his moment. All it would take was for Sarathane to weaken and he would return.

"No!" she cried and fell backwards. She fell outside the Force pocket, breaking the connection completely.

"He was gone," she whispered. "There was nothing left."

"He hid," replied Sarathane, whilst steadying himself after leaving the Force pocket himself.

"But you can control it," she persisted. "I've seen you handle worse. You had the highest measure of control I have ever seen!"

"That was only with Jolee's and your help. After you left there wasn't much to work for. The Council only let me work as an instructor, and even then, only with students who were going to wash out."

"But you turned most of them around, I and the others saw that."

"Did they tell me? Was there any sign of appreciation of the work I did there?"

Bastila paused for a moment, recalling the years at the Duneeden Academy, and then shook her head.

"I'm tired of it all, Bastila," he admitted, "and when I'm tired, the guard comes down."

"But together we could…."

"No," he interrupted. "Just imagine if I fell, what would our bond do to you?"

"When I fell, you managed to resist it quite easily," she shot back.

"That's because Malak didn't know of our connection," Sarathane pointed out. "If he had, I'm sure that he would have found a way to exploit it, and things would have been very different."

"We could get the Council to try and exorcise Revan," Bastila said, sounding increasingly desperate. "They could remove the remnant."

Sarathane looked down at the floor and asked quietly, "How many of the Masters who originally worked me over are still alive?"

Bastila thought for a second, and then realised the point he was making.

"There are only a couple still alive," she admitted, but she continued hopefully, "but we can at least try."

Sarathane smiled at the irony. "They won't try because it can't be done. Do or do not, there is no try."

"You've given up!" She sounded astonished. "You, of all people. You realise you have condemned yourself to a prison."

"I am not in prison," he replied bitterly. "I am the prison. I always have been."

Bastila backed away, then turned and ran back to the main cabin. Sarathane watched her go.

_Better a clean break, _he reasoned. _Painful now, but better for all in the long run._

The next morning, the speeder bike was fully packed. She'd been busy taking all her possessions from the cabin. He stood by the bike, silently watching her pack. Occasionally, she'd look up and almost say something, but always thought better of it and continued packing. Sarathane had seen her unpacking and then repacking the bike all of the previous night.

Her voice was quiet. "I'm ready."

"I know," he said. "There's one favour I need you to do."

She looked at him, puzzled. He picked up a package from the floor.

"HK-47's head," he explained. "Rebuild him, please."

Taking the package, she smiled and nodded.

He returned the smile. "Put him on a lavatory or a fashion droid's body, he'd hate that."

She giggled a little at that and then turned to look at him. Tears freely fell from her face, and there was no attempt to hide or suppress the emotion.

"I could stay," she offered.

"Could you? " he asked. "Can you honestly say that when you look up at the stars at night, you're not drawn to them?"

She shook her head, her shoulders shaking. He put his arms around her and held her. The smell of her hair was intoxicating; the warmth of her body as she pressed in close to him was almost too much. Almost. Instead he guided her to the bike, and practically had to lift her on.

"Don't look back," he whispered, and stepped back

She nodded, and without looking at him, started the engine. She took a deep breath, gunned the engine and was gone. Sarathane watched the bike rise over the trees and disappear into the distance.

He didn't know how long he stood there, but he noticed his vision was getting blurry. He put his hand to his face, and realised that it came away wet.

He stretched his back to give some relief from the dull ache and looked out over the newly ploughed field. It had taken him all day. It was true that he could have got one of the droids to do it but he felt he needed to keep himself occupied. The key to survival, he reasoned, was not to think about the events of earlier in the day.

On of the maintence droids sidled up next to him and bleeped loudly. He started, not used to the lack of warning the force would have provided. He turned and looked down and the slug-like droid who repeated the beep again.

"Power generator's down again?" he asked.

An affirmative beep.

"Are we needing spare parts?"

Again the affirmative beep.

"I'll have to sort that out in the next few days. It's quite a hike to the town you know!"

The droid acknowledged this with a sad sounding beep, turned and moved away.

Sarathane couldn't blame it. If the power generator failed completely, then the droids wouldn't be able to work and if the droids couldn't work then things would be a lot tougher than he imagined. How the generator had lasted this long he had no idea, but it was obvious that some form of overhaul would be needed.

He could feel the change in temperature as evening was fast approaching. He walked over to the fireplace and set off one of the lighters. He let the heat wash over him as he worked his shoulder to try and loosen it up. Looking over at the Force pocket, he was momentarily temped to step in and remove this little ache.

Sighing, he turned away to observe the sunset. The low twilight and the stretched shadows from the trees gave him a melancholy feeling. He felt rested and at peace, even though he was already missing Bastila.

_Damn, _he thought. _Shouldn't have thought of her._

He forced his concentration back to the sunset, observing the flocks of birds on their final flight of the day before retiring for the night. His eye caught a large one in the far distance moving very fast. It took him a second to realise it was no bird.

His hand dropped to his belt to find no light sabre hanging there. All he had was the spade he'd been digging with. At the speed this object was moving, it would be on him before he could get to one of the shelters for a weapon. He watched with nervous anticipation as the shape became bigger, certainly a ship of some kind. It was only when the ship came closer did it become familiar, The Ebon Hawk.

_Blast, _he thought, _they're going to try to convince me to leave._

But the ship didn't land; it hovered above the clearing and opened its front hatch. The debris the ships repulsors' where kicking up, made it impossible to see if there was anybody at the hatch.

Then, out of nowhere she was there. She said nothing as she embraced him. He was overwhelmed by her touch and her hair whipping about in them by the repulsor field's power.

"Well?" shouted a voice from the ship.

Sarathane tore his gaze away from Bastila, to see Carth holding on the gangway. With one hand he was holding onto the side, with the other he had a large bag.

Bastila smiled at Sarathane and then turned back to Carth.

"I'm staying!" she shouted back.

Carth smiled and threw the bag off the ramp.

"I'll come back to check on you from time to time." He yelled and with a wave at the pair of them, he disappeared inside the ship as the ramp began to close.

Sarathane looked back at Bastila, "What's in the bag?"

"A year's supply of Mr Brook's stew."

Sarathane laughed.

They stood holding each other in front of the fire, watching the Ebon Hawk be put into a an almost vertical climb. Disappearing into the sky as the first stars of the night began to appear.


	11. Chapter 11

Bastila Shan slowly woke in their bed. As the fog of unconsciousness began to clear, she stretched out her arms, yawning. She had the anticipation of another great day ahead. It would mostly be looking after their crops, maintenance of the buildings, looking after the droids or just walking through the Myrkr forest with Revan or Sarathane, as he preferred to be called.

Not the galaxy saving chores, she been trained for but she didn't care. For the last year, she'd been happy. Not even on the day she's become a Padawan, compared to any of the days she'd spent here.

She turned over to look at him and was taken back a little surprised. He'd gone.

"That was not a problem," she reasoned. "He's probably had an early start on the fields."

Leisurely she got up and walked to the fresher. It still amazed her that it worked. It was one of the few luxuries she could not have done without. She could smell the fresh cut grass from outside the dwelling, which meant that at least some of the maintenance droids were working correctly.

She walked out and looked through the wardrobe for something to wear. As she pulled out on of her old robes, her eye caught the security locker in the corner of the room. It was open.

A knot of fear began to grow in her stomach. She quickly controlled it and urgently threw on her clothes. She walked over to the locker and curiously opened it. There was only her light-sabre and a couple of heavy blasters there. Both of his two light-sabres had gone.

"Sithspit!" she cursed, and grabbing her sabre, ran out of the door to the outside.

He was nowhere in sight. She walked around the compound calling out his name. There was no reply and no sign. She found the garage; sometimes he could be found working on the swoop bike he'd used on Taris. However, when she entered the garage, swoop bike had gone as well. By the burn marks, it was pretty obvious it had been gunning at full power.

"What's happened?" Bastila began to feel scared. Had she been abandoned?

She forced herself to be calm. She replayed the events of the previous couple of days to see if there was anything that had upset him or something odd which had happened. Nothing came to mind. Confusion replaced the fear; he wouldn't just up and leave unless there was a very good reason. Had the council recalled him? If so, why wasn't she called back as well? She walked back over to the garage, where her speeder bike was and mounted it. He might have been called just to Myrkr City; she'll start looking for him there.

* * *

Carth Onasi was sat in a small cafe in Myrkr city. He stared again at the call signal from Sarathane with some bemusement. He'd been popping by their encampment once every couple of months, bringing in supplies, old friends for a visit and news of the outside galaxy. What was strange was, this was the first time he'd been called here. What really alarmed him was the signal was marked as urgent.

He looked around the cafe. There was a bustling market just across the road. Small town traders looked at him with curiosity; it wasn't all that often that they got a ship landing at the pads here. He sat here, feeling more and more self-conscious.

"We don't like strangers round here!" came a voice from behind him in a mocking accent.

"Well, that's two of us then," replied Carth with a smile recognising the voice.

His friend came into view and sat down across from him. He tried not to start or show shock, but failed. Sarathane was dressed in Revan's old clothes. Head to toe in black with the long cape. The only difference is the fact he hadn't covered his head. There was no mask and the hood wasn't up but he looked very serious.

"Erm, are you just seeing if you can fit into your old clothes or should I be worried?"

"You should be worried," replied Sarathane. "But not about anything I'm going to do."

"Oh? Nice and cryptic as usual, but then you're the Jedi master not me." Carth shot back. "You Jedi ever think of releasing a cryptic to basic translation manual. It's only so we lesser mortals know what the hell you're talking about."

His friend smiled, "Sorry Carth, but there are something's we need to talk about and I haven't got much time."

"You and Bastila had a fight?"

Some emotion passed over Sarathane's face but was quickly repressed.

"Eh? Heck no, but we would have done if I hadn't of left. She's probably motoring over here on the spare speeder even as I talk."

The seriousness had turned into something else Carth observed, it seemed his friend was in a hurry.

"So what is the big emergency?" Carth was beginning to feel the same kind of anxiousness that Sarthane was displaying.

"Last night, I fell into our force pocket in our clearing," Sarathane explained. "It unlocked the last of Revan's memories and thanks to them, I've got to go."

"Go?" Carth was astonished. "Where? Just say the word and I'll get the old crowd together."

Sarathane's smile stopped.

"Not this time, Carth. You and the others have got to stay behind. Is the Hawk fuelled?"

"Yes, but …"

"And is HK-47 and T3 aboard?"

"T3 is, but I haven't managed to completely rebuild HK-47 yet. He's still missing bits."

Sarathane sighed, "It will have to do."

"Do for what?"

"Carth, Bad things are coming, and it will be worse if I don't go."

"Are you talking about more Sith?"

"Yes, there are more Sith out there," Sarathane looked up at the sky to emphasise his point. "They've grown in power, even worse than Malek. But these Sith are different. They're subtle, cunning and patient."

"That doesn't sound like the Sith," observed Carth.

"No, these will use a delicate poison to assassinate someone, not hit them with a hammer, like my old apprentice."

Carth looked at his friend with concern.

"And that's what you're going to do? Sort them out by yourself?"

"No," Sarathane shook his head. "That's for someone else to deal with and I need you to find her."

"Who?" Carth got out his data pad to take some notes.

"Look through the Jedi Archives; you should get some special dispensation from Vandar. If he gives you any trouble, then say the request comes from me but don't let them who you're looking for. Find the records concerning the General of the Republic at Malachor V."

"Her?" Carth looked shocked, "You must be joking!"

Sarathane looked at his friend with surprise.

"That was the biggest war crime of the entire Mandalorian war and it shames me that it was performed by our side. She should left to rot wherever she is."

"You blame her for what happened?"

"Of course I do. How many on both sides died there?"

"That was the idea; the entire Mandalore Army fell on the small amounts of troops waiting for them."

"I remember, we jumped in and engaged the fleet as their troops were on the surface." reminisced Carth. "But then the entire planet broke up. That wiped out most of their fleet and gave us the advantage. Revan, you, led the boarding action from the Revager to their Flag ship and took down their leader."

Sarathane nodded. "But I also remember that that was the plan. The General was following the orders, Revan had issued. It was the only way to bring an end to the War quickly."

"She could have refused those orders."

"She knew what was needed."

"Did everybody on the planet knew what would happen"

"They were mostly Jedi, Revan had selected those who he felt he couldn't turn to the dark side at a later point. He didn't tell the General that."

"Do you feel any responsibility for what happened?" Carth couldn't believe that his friend was so matter of fact and remote about the whole incident.

"That's the big question," explained Sarathane. "Although I know that I have Revan's body and all Revan's memories, it still feels as if it happened to someone else, I'm a spectator to these memories."

"That mostly thanks to you, Bastila and the others," he continued. "Having seen what Revan did after his fall, it makes me sick to the stomach, even though I can understand the logic behind it. Maybe, I am what Revan would have been if he hadn't of fallen."

"Well, your not Revan to me, and I know Bastila doesn't see you as Revan. It just seeing you in that outfit, well..."

"So will you give the General the benefit of the doubt?"

"I guess," Carth looked uncomfortable. "Why do we need her?"

"She's important," Sarathane replied. "She'll help rebuild the order and teach some of those Masters some reality they've been missing."

"How can we trust her to help?"

"I know her very well. She'll do the right thing."

"How well? You two weren't ermm…" Carth couldn't find the right words, "close?"

"Well, yeah." said Sarathane looking slightly confused.

"Does Basilla know?"

"About what?"

"Your ex-girlfriend being the general?"

"Girlfriend?" It was Sarathane's turn to look shocked and then realisation dawned. He started laughing.

"What?" said Carth, looking even more puzzled?

"She wasn't my girlfriend," Sarathane sighed, letting the laughter subside. "What kind of Jedi would I be, if I didn't recognise my own sister?"

"Ah! You're Sister." Carth looked embarrassed, "Hang on, I thought Jedi weren't supposed to know who they're family were?"

"We worked it out during the war," explained Sarathane. "That was a shock and a half I can tell you!"

Carth brought the subject to the present again.

"So if the General is going to sort out these new Sith, where are you going?"

"There's something else, in the unexplored regions. It's such a threat to us all that I've got to and stop it."

"Can you be more specific?"

"No! The last time others were involved, we all fell to the dark side. I can't risk anybody being exposed again."

"Surely Bastila," countered Carth. "She one of the few that's come back from the Dark Side and she's stronger for it."

"I would have," Sarathane looked very pained at this. "But I discovered something else."

"Oh?"

"Our children will be born in eight months. I doubt that Bastila knows herself yet, but there is no way to do what I need to. I'd might as well paint a big target on the little ones, and Bastila, and start offering the enemy to have a free shot!"

"Then stay, bring your kids up and then fight when you need to." urged Carth.

"Do you trust me Carth?" asked Sarathane.

"Do you even have to ask that?"

"Because trust me when I say; if I do that, it will be too late and we'll all be lost."

Carth began to understand.

"That bad?" he said.

Sarathane nodded solemnly, "You know, for the last year, I've been at peace. It feels like I've now got to pay for it."

"How many times have I got to tell you? Stop trying to atone for what Revan's done in the past."

"This isn't atonement. This is doing what is right. Revan sought to unite the galaxy under one flag to face what he perceived was a greater threat. He came to the conclusion, maybe by himself or under the influence of the star forge, that the best way, was the Sith way."

"But the war weakened the Republic and the Sith to almost breaking point, Neither of us could withstand a full scale invasion at the moment."

"Exactly," Sarathane smiled sadly. "Now do you understand?"

Carth sat back in his seat. Sarathane had won the argument. He knew both of friends well enough to know that Bastila would never understand what Sarathane was about to do. It was going to be difficult for her.

"You said three things?"

"The Hawk."

Carth nodded. "I'll dial up a transport to pick me and Bastila up."

"Find the General."

Carth grimaced but nodded.

"Finally, keep everybody safe. Hide them, cover for them and make them disappear. The new Sith will try to kill them. Don't let it happen to them or you"

"I'll do my best." He said.

Sarathane stood up to go and, looking sadly at Carth, placed a small data crystal on the table. Carth knew instinctively it was for Bastila. Sarathane turned from his friend and walked towards the landing pads.

"What happens if you fail?" Carth shouted after him.

Sarathane didn't look back but called into Carth's mind.

"Then make the Republic as strong as you can. Trust me, I want to come back but there's no guarantee."

Carth watched as his friend disappeared into the crowd of the market place. He looked down at the table and picked up the crystal on the table.

"Nope, there never is."

Carth stood up and started to walk over to the landing bays himself. The least he could do was watch the ship leave.

* * *

Bastila rode into Myrkr City. The name city was used in a loose sense of the word, on most worlds this settlement would be about the size of a small town. She decided to start by the market. It would be the logical place to start. They'd shopped for supplies there before.

It only took five minutes to get to through the crowds. It wasn't as crowded as she was used to. There was the roar of a ship taking off. It got the crowd's attention. Bastila knew that ships arriving or leaving was kind of a rare event so there was no surprise about the crowd's reaction. She looked up herself and her heart almost stopped.

It was the Ebon Hawk. The ship was in a power climb, heading almost vertically into the sky.

"Oh no," she breathed.

She gunned the engine and headed over the landing pads. She stopped and ran inside. The bay was very much like the one at Anchorhead on Tatooine. It was an enclosed area, with a huge hole at the top. There was a solitary person stood in the centre, looking up into the sky. Carth Onasi. She walked towards him slowly. He kept on looking up at the sky and then back down at his hand. She couldn't make out his expression but his body language said it all.

"Carth?" She couldn't help it but her voice was trembling, "What's happening?"

Carth looked at her blankly, just staring straight through her.

"Carth?" she repeated, the tears were beginning to well up in her eyes.

He blinked, looked at her and then shook his head.

"Bastila, I'm so sorry."

He handed over a crystal. Bastila grasped it like drowning person grabs a lifeline.

"I'll be over there," he said. "Talk to me when you've seen it."

Bastila could not understand why she couldn't focus on the crystal properly until she tasted the salt of the tears running down her face.

* * *

He watched her from a distance. It was bad enough for him that his long time friend had gone but for Bastila, this was on a whole other level. She pulled out a data reader and popped the crystal into the reader. The message was about five minutes long, when it had finished she just stood there unmoving. Carth thought about walking over but rejected the impulse.

"Give her space," he thought. "She needs it."

A couple of minutes later, she wiped her face, looked up at the sky, turned and walked back to him.

She looked at Carth and smiled sadly, "I'll do as he asks but I don't understand why."

"I know," It was all he could think of saying.

"There was one thing he asked me to do." said Bastila, trying to force a smile. "You've got to be a godfather. He wants the boy to be called Dunsil and the girl to be called Jade."

It was then Bastila's mask cracked. She couldn't take it all in. Yesterday, she'd been the so happy. She buried herself into Carth's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. He reached round, trying to comfort her.

"What ever your doing Sarathane, Reven, or whatever you call yourself now," Carth thought. "It had better be worth it."


End file.
